


The Chaos That Binds

by Silver__Hawk



Series: Batfamily: Mending Broken Hearts and Broken Minds [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily (DCU) Fluff, Batfamily Angst (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Caring Batfamily (DCU), Dick Grayson Gives Advice, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Hugs, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd Whump, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Resurrected Jason Todd, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24375454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver__Hawk/pseuds/Silver__Hawk
Summary: Bruce has been stripped of the mantel for being abusive towards Jay when the Red Hood first arrived in Gotham; and the rest of the family valiantly fights to keep the city safe.That means Bruce has the time to work on healing the wounds tearing his family apart. However, healing both gets easier and harder when a bounty is placed on the entire Batclan; and Jason is badly wounded. The family finds themselves hunkering under one roof for their own protection.With cunning enemies closing in, and Jay too injured to fight, the family rallies together. They're about to learn a whole lot about healing.(Jason Whump) (Dysfunctional Batfamily Dynamics) (Bruce is trying to be a good dad) (And slowly figuring it out.){Chapter 7: 5/30/2020}
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Batfamily: Mending Broken Hearts and Broken Minds [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755331
Comments: 150
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**PREVIOUSLY:**

_"I really do love you, Jason."_

_Bruce worried he'd given his son a premature heart attack... But the boy breathed out once more._

_"Yeah yeah... I love you too, old man."_

* * *

**TWO DAYS LATER:**

"You're sure about this, Jay?"

The second robin rolled his shoulders and cast an expressionless gaze at his older brother. 

"Positive. Gotham can't last long without some line of defense. I'm not batman, but since you guys aren't ready to let him touch the cowl again, someone's gotta step up."

They'd taken the first steps. Their family had finally burst the oozing wound that they'd worked so hard to cover and forget.

Jason wasn't sure where he fell into the equation. Or even how he felt. His mind was a mess though; so the latter fact was hardly surprising.

He'd long come to grips with the fact that Bruce had nearly killed him with that batarang. His family and the league had not.

As far as Jason could tell, both the bats and the league had descended on Bruce like protective mother bears, ironically on the black sheep's behalf. It was strange. He never understood how so many people could be on his side.

The league had authorized Bruce's probation, and his own children had stripped away the cowl and hidden it. Now Bruce had to confront his shortcomings. It was going to be a long and painful road for everyone.

Dick hadn't left Jason's side in nearly two weeks. And while there were indeed times Jason felt suffocated, he felt comforted at the same time. But Jason knew all good things must come to an end.

Tim had already gone back to Gotham with Bruce and Damian. And Jason had this incling that all hell was about to break loose on Gotham.

He was going home. He wasn't ready. His mind was a mess, and both he and Dick were well aware of that. It hardly mattered though.

Jason couldn't ignore the pressing business in Gotham anymore than he could ignore a gunshot wound.

"Besides-" Jason continued. "-I need a crap load of help, and while you've helped me unbelievably, you also can't babysit me forever."

Dick's eyes flashed worriedly, fingers digging into the worn wood of Ma Kent's porch step.

"You could always come to Blüdhaven." Dick offered, hope clinging to his voice. 

Jason was both floored and touched by the offer, though none of that breached his impassive facade. As tempting as it was, Jason knew leaving his patch of the city was out of the question.

"Dick, Crime Alley needs me." The second Robin pointedly declared. "And the Haven needs you."

Dick nodded. He'd known as much. But he still worried. Jason was far from stable. He spent every other day in a depressive funk, a funk he spent a great deal of time ignoring.

"Okay." The oldest Robin acquiesced relucantly. "I'll let you go. Under one condition."

"And what might that be?"

"If you're depressed, you call me. If you get hurt, you call-" Jason opened his mouth, but Dick raised a hand. "If you need to talk, you call me. If you want to call one of the other bats instead, that's fine too... But I want you to call _someone._ I need to know you're okay. No more hiding, Jay. No more pretending you're fine."

Jay gnawed on his lip, eyes narrowing. He didn't appreciate the attempt on his privacy, but he also knew that Dick was trying to be there and give him space at the same time.

Then it dawned on him. He had leverage here. Dick wasn't forthcoming about his problems either. But going forward, Jason wanted their relationship to be one of mutual trust. If they were going to fix this insane little family, it had to work both ways.

An oath was valued by both men.

He looked Dick straight in the eye. "Only if you agree to the same."

That was clearly not what Dick had expected. The oldest Robin opened his mouth in protest. It was the moment of truth. If he trusted Jason, he'd agree. If he agreed and went back on his word, it would be detrimental to all the ground they'd covered since that night Jason had gotten shot.

His jaw clicked shut. He finally recovered his voice after a moment of thought. "You sly little-" Jason grinned. "Alright, alright. I've got your six, and you've got mine."

Jason smiled, his green eyes lighting up in a contagious way that had Dick beaming himself. He didn't care that Jason wasn't a hugger. He dropped his arm around Jason's ripped shoulders and drew him in close. 

"Don't make me stab you." Jason half heartedly grouched.

"That's such a Damian thing to say."

"Fine-" Jason snorted. "Don't make me _shoot_ you."

Dick smiled fondly. It hadn't been too long ago that Jason wouldn't have agreed to be honest, or even to the hug.

Things were finally looking up.

* * *

**FOUR DAYS LATER:**

Jason Todd was screwed. Eight to one were typical odds for any vigilante in a city as volatile as Gotham. 

But these weren't just eight bogies. They were eight bogies with deathstroke level training and an arsenal of plans.

Unlike Gotham's gallery of colorful creeps, these people didn't play games or embrace dramatic antics.

They approached him with an ultimatum. And there were several things working against Jason.

Two hostages, one on each side of the city.

Video evidence to back it up.

The iron will of killers who _would_ execute the hostages on command.

One word. 

_Surrender._

The odds were not stacked in Jason's favor. These people had appeared out of nowhere, demanding his surrender and leaving him with no choices, no way out.

Rough concrete dug into his knees as he dropped, guns clattering against the rooftop as his hands rested on the smooth reinforced plastic of his helmet.

"Search him!"

Jason put up no resistance as they stripped his jacket, yanked his belt off, removed his boots. Instead he watched the terrified hostages through the tablet Mr. Swift -their leader- was holding.

"Let them go. Your business is with _me._ " Jason ground out as they picked him clean of weapons. 

"No." Mr. Swift amended, cradling the tablet and spearing the second robin with a smug look. "My business is with my employer. You _are_ the business. I'm sorry there was no proper introduction. I do not waste my time."

Jason's blood ran cold. 

"I am Mr. Swift. This is my team. We were hired to bring you in, but I gather you already deduced that. I figured I could forego needless fighting and just win your surrender." He gestured to the tablet in his arms. It was a scary wake up call. Not all villains enjoyed playing with their prey, especially the ones from outside of Gotham.

"Boys?"

Two of the enforcers working under Swift, grabbed Jason's arms, holding them out to the sides, ninety degrees away from his body.

"Who hired you?" Jason demanded. 

Swift didn't acknowledge the question as a third enforcer came up behind Jason. It was a woman, her finger trailed over the curve of Jason's shoulder blade, earning a scowl from the nearly-twenty year old. 

_Don't fight back or they're dead._ Jason reminded himself. _Don't. fight. back._

It hardly mattered anyway. Their suits were augmented to enhance their strength and speed. He didn't really stand a chance of jerking his wrists free.

The woman behind him suddenly drew her hand back. There was a sickening crack, and fiery pain tore through Jason's shoulder as the joint was wrenched out of socket under her fist.

He cried out, instantly losing feeling in that arm to pins and needles... Then nothing. The man holding it pulled tighter on the out of joint limb, and black ebbed into Jason's vision. His stomach rolled. He gagged, and the woman touched his other shoulder. He shuddered. _Owowowow No!_

Another crack, and pain surged through both shoulders as he yanked against the already damaged one.

He lost a chunk of time. His hands were wrenched behind his back, cuffed. It hurt, bad.

The cement scraped the side of the helmet, snagged at his chest as he was dragged across the rooftop by his ankles.

"-lemination order..." Mumbles. "-ants him dead. Not brought in. Dispose of him." 

A boot crashed into his ribs, followed by others. Jason grit his teeth and curled in on himself, yelping as a rib cracked. 

He resisted the blackness, as much as he possibly could. Passing out in enemy hands was hardly ideal, but eventually, the void dragged him under.

* * *

Jason came to, the smell of salty air and rotting fish assaulting his nostrils. He nearly threw up.

He was being forced to stand. Stabs of pain lanced from his disconnected shoulders, wrapping around his spine at the base of his neck.

His ribs were out of wack, probably broken. He shuddered as they approached with a heavy roll of chain, bending to tie it around his ankles.

"I'd recommend holding your breath." Swift sneered, stepping to the edge of the dock and staring into the black murkey depths. 

"It's not deep, but I doubt you'll be swimming with no arms and no legs. I-" 

" _Commander, Swift."_ Static crackled on his belt. _"We released the hostages and are-"_

Jason locked eyes with Swift. Clearly Jason wasn't supposed to know that -if the look on Swift's scarred face was anything to go by-.

_Boom. Leverage gone._

His knee rammed into someone's face.The chains dragged loosely around his heels as he dove for the water. No one was expecting that of all things. He hit the cold, nearly losing his breath as liquid began seeping into his kevlar.

His helmet was gone. When had that happened? He shook his head, wrenching his feet against the chains. They tugged and loosened, letting him slip his ankles free. Then he kicked. The water roared, bullets creating little vortexes in the water surrounding him. The adrenaline almost masked te twinge as a bullet slammed into his thigh, tearing through his cargo pants. Warm liquid gushed into the water and slipped through his toes. He bit back a cry, snapping his feet up and down against the pain. 

He couldn't hold his breath long. He hadn't gotten a decent lung full of air with the damage inflicted on his chest. Steel toed boots. Blegh.

Hugging the docks, he swam. His lungs squeezed in his chest, throat constricting as spots swam in his already obstructed vision. The plinks had died away, the water calm. He adjusted his kicks and broke free from the murky depths. His ribs stung as he inhaled sharply. His arms were useless, meaning he had to find a patch of sloped ground to climb out of. He dove back under the water, using years of study knowledge and route running to plot a course to a sandy slope. His stomach scraped in the mud and grit as he planted his knees into the debris and forced himself up and out.

His chest burned, eyes watering, ears ringing. His shoulders sagged as water dripped off, leg trying to give out as the bullet shifted in his muscle. He jerked, managing to keep his balance. He couldn't stop now. So he steeled his mind, shoved the pain away and ran.

* * *

His arms were still dislocated, wrenched behind his back with cold steel locking his wrists together. His ribs were cracked and bruised. He had a bullet hole in his thigh. He was cold, shivering, and so done with the night. He ran. And ran. And ran. The docks morphed into alley ways, short stubby buildings getting gradually taller as he slipped deeper into the city. Thankfully, Bruce had made Jason memorize big patches of Alley ways back in the early days, back when he was robin. He could probably get across the city blind folded.

Thankfully, anyone who did see the cuffed 'madman' lurching through the alleys mostly ignored him. He didn't stick around for someone to call the police and report a possible Arkham escapee either. He couldn't get to a safehouse. That meant climbing, twisting a key, and opening a door. His leg refused to support his weight. 

As he limped along, he came to an empty street. The lights were dim, flickering from disrepair. With a sigh, he dragged his feet, figuring he'd have to walk to Wayne Manor and hope Bruce would help him. He passed a phonebooth, wishing that he had a quarter, more specifically one he could actually get his hands on. His numb, clammy hands. Two quarters sat perched on top. 

_Okay, now I'm hallucinating. Luck is never on my side._ Jason mused, blinking away the spots and checking again. Someone, in their haste, had indeed left two quarters sitting on top. It was theft. He knew it. But the chances of him bleeding to death before he got across town, was steadily increasing. He carefully, limped over, shuddering in disgust as he planted his top teeth on the first quarter, clamping his bottom teeth onto it as soon as the edge was dangling in the air. It killed his ribs to stoop; to angle the quarter and get in it the slot.

Doing it again nearly dropped him. The phone lit up, and Jason frowned. Who the heck was he going to call? The demon spawn would never let him live this predicament down. The replacement needed sleep, and Bruce... well despite the bat's words, Jason wasn't sure he was ready to face him. Not this injured, not this weak. He couldn't handle the disappointment he'd most assuredly see in Bruce's eyes. That's when the fragments of a conversation drifted through his muddled mind.

_"If you're depressed, you call me. If you get hurt, you call-"_

He gripped the phone in his jaws and let it drop to dangle by the cord. Then he used his nose to dial up Dick's number. His strength was gone, spots swimming in his eyes. Cool plastic pressed against his back, giving him an easy, smooth, and squeaky slide to the bottom.

_"Yello, Dick Grayson speaking. Who is this?"_

Jason heard the faint voice from the receiver, letting out a sob of relief. It was quiet, but still echoed enough to be heard over the phone.

_"Hello?"_

"Dick." Jason croaked weakly. "I called. Ya... t'ld me ta... call. I... I'm..." Jason trailed off, mind blanking. What was he?

 _"Jason?"_ Why did Dick sound panicked? Pain seized every muscle in his body, Jason's back arching off the plexiglass phone booth wall, strangled gasp tearing from his lungs. _Oh right._

"I'm... uh... I'm not feelin' so great..." He forced the slur away, slowly enunciating his words so Dick could understand.

 _"Okay,"_ He heard a thunk. _"I'm coming to you. Where are you?"_

Jason retraced his steps. "West Rojo road." He took a shuddering breath. "The... the phone booth."

 _"Okay, Jay. Stay awake. I'm coming. Do you hear me? I'm coming._" A cynical, ocasionally dormant piece of Jason scoffed in disbelief. Old thinking patterns bubbled up from the deepest darkest recesses of his mind. He was weak. Better off just dying and saving people the trouble. Dick was just trying to make him feel better, promising to come so Jason would die peacefully.

His time on the phone expired, Dick's worried assurances ringing around in his head long after he actually stopped hearing them. His shoulders radiated agony, his leg still oozing blood. In a last moment of clarity, he angled the bullet hole against the edge of the phone booth, pushing hard. Jagged tears ripped his vision asunder, before blackness ebbed completely into vision.

* * *

"-ason... Jason."

"Hnnn... Gah!" He yelped, jumping.

"Easy. That's it. Come on back to me, Jay." A gentle hand gripped the side of his neck. A heaviness kept his lids glued shut, but his mind was back and sharp... relatively speaking. It was Dick kneeling in front of him, hand splayed against Jason's chilled throat. "You with me?"

" 'nfort'nat'ly."

"Just take it easy." Dick murmured. Suddenly the hand left, and the dull ache in his leg cobwebbed into a stabbing burn.

"Argh! What are you doing?!" Jason snapped, jerking sharply. Both of the Golden Boy's hands were pushing down on the oozing wound in his thigh, and gosh darn, it hurt! 

"Woah, woah. Just take it easy, Jaybird." Dick soothed gently. "I gotta get the bleeding stopped." Jason forced an eye open questioningly. At his glance, Dick pressed his lips together. "There's still a bullet in there."

"Nnnn." Jason swallowed thickly, head pressing against the glass. "It hurts." He whispered.

"I know. You're in rough shape. But I promise; you're gonna be okay. I've got you now." Dick's eyes locked with his, as he tightening the bandage to keep what was left of Jason's precious blood inside the troublesome little hole. Jason's breath hitched, eyes rolling back, body begging to give up. "Stay with me." Dick's voice drew him back. "I have to get these cuffs off you."

Jason shuddered as Dick crawled closer to his side, gentle hands leaning him forward. His ribs protested vehemently, breath catching his throat. Dick knelt, setting his foot down on Jason's other side, leg bent above the nineteen year old's lap. He let Jason's chest rest against his thigh, fingers deftly working to pick the cuff's lock without jarring his little brother's shoulders. A sharp click, and Jason was free. His shoulders were misshapen, swollen under the kevlar fabric. His arms were twisted weirdly, and limp without the cuffs.

"There we go..." Dick murmured gently. "Jay, I need to get your arms back in socket."

The boy didn't reply, paling slightly at the thought. He shivered involuntarily, squeezing his eyes shut at the mere thought of the pain. He wondered how much damage had been caused to his arms by their rather precarious position out of socket. Dick brushed the side of his face, drawing Jay's attention. "It's gonna be okay." The words weren't as comforting as Dick had hoped. Jason swallowed thickly. "Try and stay with me. After this, I can get you home, get you warm."

 _That sounded nice._ Jason admitted internally as Dick carefully gripped Jason's arm. He'd done this hundreds of times before, both to himself and to others. They jumped off buildings, a feat which put constant strains on their shoulders. A sudden stop more often than not resulted in partial or complete dislocation. He was fast. It would take much time to get Jason's sharp yet short scream out of his head, not for days to come.

* * *

Jason woke up, feet scraping uselessly. His shoulder was on fire, wrenched over someone's shoulder. The person's hand was wrapped against his hip, sparing his ribs the agony of being clung to. "-and they _blamed_ me!" Dick was muttering. "It's not my fault there was a stupid rock there."

He could feel both hands now. Of all the coherent thoughts that could have assaulted Jay's mind, it was the ability to wiggle all his fingers the drew his undivided attention. He worked to get his feet cooperating and in sync with Dick's steady gait. He put weight on his bad leg, knee buckling and nearly throwing Dick off balance. Jason wasn't _small_. He was bulky, lean but buff. He was taller than Dick by an inch, meaning it would be difficult for him to successfully carry the nineteen year old Red Hood.

"Hey, hey, easy." Dick soothed as Jason whimpered. "I've got you. Just lean on me."

"M'fine. M'fine."

"Uh uh." Dick shook his head, pulling Jason more tightly against his side, cynching the gap between them shut. "Not even close."

Jason stared at the street, still fighting to make it easier on Dick, breath stuttering and hitching. It seemed he'd yet again screwed up so badly that Dick had felt obligated to come to his rescue. He was surprised Dick had even showed up, but "M'sorry. Didn't m'n... to be an 'nconvenience

"Shut up." Dick snapped, demeanor shifting one-eighty. Dick flinched at the sudden appearance of his little known tempter; and Jason startled, jerking in surprise and putting weight on his thigh. The muscle twitched, sending frenzied signals from his pain receptors.

"Gah, ah!" He fell hard against Dick, missing the horrified look on the oldest Robin's face. A tear dripped down Jason's cheek.

" _Shoot_... Jay... I'm sorry." The first robin backtracked guiltily, tightening his grip on Jason's wrist. "Hey." He frowned. His brother was now seriously lagging, even with a strong pair of arms to goad him on. The pain caused by his surprised floundering sent him on a downward drop that Dick could only fight to slow.

Jason curled up in pain, gasping and whimpering. Dick was talking, words muffled. His hand came to rest on Jason's arm, another on his cheek.

"Come on, Jason." Jason. Not little wing, not Jaybird, Jason. "You can do it." He didn't let him stay down. He was hauling Jason forward, despite the resistance. 

"We're almost to..." He grunted, dragging his falling brother towards the car he'd driven to Gotham in. He eased Jason's arm from over his shoulder. "-my car..." He opened the passenger front seat and set Jason down. For a moment it was only Dick that kept him from collapsing bonelessly. "Alright. We're going to drive to your closest safehouse. Just lay back... there ya go." Jason moaned, head lulling against the headrest. Dick noted with a sinking gut how weak his little brother was, pressing two fingers against his carotid.

Jason blearily dragged his eyes open,

"I'm sorry, Jay." Dick apologized again, noting the way his brother had started shaking. "I didn't mean... You..." Dick collected his thoughts. His hand reached up, lightly cupping his little brother's face. "You aren't a burden or an inconvienence. I _asked_ you to call me. You did. You could have called anyone, but you called _me._ " Dick sighed. "I'm not at all upset that you needed me. I'm glad I could come to help you. Now we are going to get you fixed up, ya hear?"

He got a faint head nod in response. Dick did a quick assessment,

"Your leg's bleeding again." Dick pulled another gauze pad from his utility belt. "Your safehouse is about a ten minute drive from here, but I need to make sure you don't bleed out before we get you there."

"S'gonna hurt." Jason mumbled.

"I'm sorry Jaybird." Dick whispered. "I'll be as quick as I can." Jason fixed him with a tired gaze. Dick knew his little brother was done, done with the pain, done with the stress. "Why don't you try and think about a rainbow or somethin?"

At that, Jason snorted, tensing up as Dick placed the swathe of fabric over his leg.

"Jason-" Dick lightly set a hand on his thigh above the wound and looked him dead in the eye. "I know it hurts, but try to relax your leg for me... Good. That's it."

The boy's breath stuttered as he forced his thigh muscle to unclench, gritting his teeth. Dick tied the next strip of bandages tight, and explosions blossomed behind Jason's eyes. Blood roared in his ears as black seized his vision.

"-kay.. okay, I'm done. It's over." Jason's back arched, bare foot kicking into the vacant footwell as he bit back a cry. "Easy, little wing." Jason swallowed against the pain. "I'm done"

"Need to go..."

"Yes, we do."

Jason heard the door click shut, the car rumble to life. He lost a thick chunk of time, spots swimming by, the world coming in and out with fiery rivulets of pain.

"Almost there, Jay." Dick assured, reaching one hand over to grip his little brother's. Jason had gotten used to Dick's clinginess over the two weeks at Ma's. He wasn't embarrassed in the least to tightly cling back, using it as an outlet for his pain.

"M'tired."

"I know. We'll get you fixed up and in bed with a warm blanket. I promise."

Jason hummed noncommittally. He wasn't sure if he could make it.

"Like heck you won't." Dick vehemently snapped, this time with a soft enough tone to keep Jason from jumping in surprise. "You are gonna make it or I'll drag you back from hell and kill you myself. Again."

Jason huffed a laugh.

* * *

Once he'd wrangled his half conscious little brother inside the dingy apartment complex where Jason kept one of his hideaways, Dick dragged him up the eight flights of stairs and located his safe house. Jason was sagging, hand limply hanging at his side, eyes half lidded, breath coming out in pained grunts.

With every step, his little brother's strength seeped out. He was growing weaker, barely clinging to hazy consciousness, barely able to walk because of the mind numbing pain. Dick found himself taking more and more weight. He opened the safehouse door and spotted the bloody couch where Jason had probably spent many night patching himself up.

Gently, Dick eased the injured bird onto the couch. He marveled -not for the first time- at how well Jason kept his stuff in order, not a knife, gun, or scrap of clothing in place. Unlike some of them, Jason took relatively good care of himself... aside from the injuries. "Come on, Jaybird." Dick soothed. "You're home. You're safe. Let's lay back so I can take a look at you, alright?"

Jason nodded numbly, nearly falling over without Dick's support. The older bird stepped back in, hands supporting his back and head, putting minimal stress on his ribs and neck.

He didn't protest as Dick cut the upper half of his suit away with a knife from Jason's living room coffee table, revealing his bruised and scar littered chest. The oldest and first retired robin sucked in a breath. "Alright... That's a lot of bruising." He sighed out, calming, focusing. "I'm gonna fix you up, okay?" He repeated yet again, fingers lightly brushing the bangs from Jason's eyes.

Jason nodded jerkily. "Alright, gotta check for broken ribs and internal hemorrhaging." Dick murmured, pressing Jason's sides and ribs with blood caked fingers, carefully, adeptly. "Ribs are bruised... maybe a few cracks. I'll wrap them." He moved down, pressing Jason's stomach. It didn't hurt half as bad as the ribs, but his fingers did press against a bruise. He jerked under Dick's fingers. "Okay, okay...No internal bleeding... that I can tell. We still need to patch up the rest of you." Jason sucked in a breath and grabbed Dick's wrist. "Got... a... kit...under... sink."

Dick nodded, face a mask of firm resolution, taking Jason's hand and squeezing it before placing it firmly against the couch. "Don't try to move. I'll be back."

* * *

It was only twenty minutes later that Dick had hooked him up to a blood bag, which Jason kept in a cooler under the sink. Then he'd started the agonizing process of extracting the bullet. His brother was too weak to do little more than twitch and shudder under Dick's ministrations, his cries of pain and agonized cursing had faded into an occasional moan or whimper.

Something told Dick that he should have called Bruce. But he didn't. He didn't ask Bruce for help; because if Jason had wanted to cave, he would have called Bruce instead. Besides, while Dick _had_ forgiven Bruce for his reaction to Jason's return... he didn't trust the bat to handle this situation well. Neither did Jason. If Dick had needed any help whatsoever, he'd have called an ambulance before he forced Jason to go to the cave against his will.

Dick told himself he had it handled. When he finished wrapping Jason's ribs, he gently laid his little brother flat against the ratty couch and set ice packs on his shoulders."Nnnhun..." Jason moaned with a shiver.

"I know." Dick muttered softly, pulling a blanket up to Jason's chest and tucking it in. "I know it's cold. It'll help though."

Jason's eyes cracked open weakly, a soft groan catching in his throat, only stopped by pure determination. "Thnks..." He slurred, eyes catching Dick's eyes.

"You're welcome." Dick assured, lightly patting his good leg. "Now get some rest."

* * *

If Jason thought he'd been hurting the night before, he was in agony the next morning. He woke up on the couch, shoulders sore and stiff. He couldn't move anything without pain causing his teeth to grind together.

He bit through the agony, pressing his elbows into the spongy fabric and heaving himself up. His chest and sides constricted under a layer of itchy bandages, leg stinging as he threw it over the edge of the couch. Just that effort left his head swimming. He breathed out a whimper, dragging his feet under him and finding some poor excuse for balance. His foot scraped against the wooden planks of his apartment floor.

Every time he took a step, his leg wobbled and tried to give out. He made it about three feet from couch before his knee refused to accept anymore pain from his ravaged leg. It gave out.

Before he could hit the ground, warm arms grabbed him from the side, wrapping around his biceps and pinning his arms to his sides. "Oop! I gotch'ya." Jason heaved out a gasp of pain as the arms kept him from faceplanting, putting unpleasant pressure on his sides.

"Who-"

His face was pressed into someone's shoulder. They smelled like cinnamon, meaning he was in the presence of one Dick Grayson. He cracked his eyes open and found Dick hefting him up. "Just me. You called remember?"

"Not really."

"Hn." Dick dragged him back to the couch, helping him sit. Jason refused help from that point on, remaining in a reclined yet half sitting position. "You somehow managed to call me with both arms pinned behind your back." There was a hint of pride in his voice. "You were really roughed up. Not surprised your memory decided to play hookie." Dick's face softened, hand coming to rest on his knee. 'How you feeling, little brother?"

"I'm fine."

"And Bruce is Santa Clause." Dick deadpanned. "How bad's the pain?"

Jason sighed. "My arms are on fire, ribs feeling someone's driving a knife into 'em, and something's seriously wrong with my leg."

"Complete dislocation of both shoulders. I popped them back in and used ice packs to bring the swelling down. Your ribs are cracked and bruised, but no serious breaks... yet. And someone shot you in the leg."

"Oh." Dick nodded, squeezing his good knee and standing up.

"Yeah. I'm going to get you something to eat."

"You don't have to-. I mean, I wasn't really thinking straight when I called-"

"Shush." Dick cut him off, vanishing into the kitchen. "I'm glad you weren't thinking straight then. You needed help. I honestly don't think the mighty red hood should be dying in a phone booth."

Jason sat quietly, listening to the clanking of pots and pans at his back. He'd be kidding himself if he wondered why Dick was there. It was a pleasant surprise, considering he had the vague impression he'd relapsed mentally in some way the night before. He always wondered, if he had needed Dick's help, whether or not the big bird would actually deliver... and now Dick _had._ It was amazing.

He still felt bad about dragging Dick away from whatever he'd been doing; but a selfish part of him was glad Dick had come. He squashed that feeling away.

Dick returned with a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup. Jason's hands may have been shaking; but he drew the line at letting other people feed him. It was a slow and agonizing process, but he managed to level spoons of surprisingly tasty soup into his mouth.

"Dick..." He mumbled past a mouthful. "Thankyou. I... I appreciate you coming to help. I... wasn't sure if..."

The first boy wonder studied the sincerity on Jason's face, feeling his heart break a little at the hesitancy. Jason still doubted him?

"I told you to call me. I told you I'd come. And I mean it." Dick huffed, gently, ruffling Jason's hair. The retired second robin smiled slightly, ducking his head. "Now... I hate to ask, but what happened last night?"

Jason's brow pinched in thought. "I was jumped. No fighting, no games. They approached me and said they had hostages. Didn't give me much choice. They beat me up, planned on drowning me, but the hostages got turned loose. So I jumped into the harbor. It was too dark for them to see me. I crawled out not far away and ran until I couldn't."

"Hmm. Not the typical riff raft then."

"Hnn. Hired guns. There's a bounty on my head."

"No surprise there." Dick nodded. "I'll take the couch."

"Pardon?"

"They aren't playing around, Jay." The oldest Robin pointed out. "And until the matter's been resolved, you need someone to watch your back. Think about it, you got away too easy."

Jason snapped his jaw shut, the cogs in his brain working furiously. 

"Wait..."

It hit them both at the same time. "You don't think this was their plan all along... Do you?"

"Little-wing, you may not be the only target." Dick acquiesced. "And you're injured."

"Fine fine."

And it was settled.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**PREVIOUSLY~**

* * *

_"Wait..."_

_It hit them both at the same time. "You don't think this was their plan all along... Do you?"_

_"Little-wing, you may not be the only target." Dick acquiesced. "And you're injured."_

_"Fine fine."_

* * *

**PRESENTLY~**

"Fine fine." Jason shifted to get comfortable; however, the action only set the pain in his ribs and shoulders off again; forcing Jason to press his lips tightly together to avoid groaning. Dick still caught the way he paled, shuddering slightly as his fists balled into the loose gray flannel pants Dick had helped him into the night before.

"Hey." Dick soothed, standing up. "You need to lay back down."

"I'm fine." Too short, breathless.

"Jason-" Dick's hands were already on his biceps, lightly tugging him forward, and to the side, expertly laying him flat on the couch once more. "You're hurt. There's nothing wrong with that; I promise. I don't think you're weak for needing help."

Guiltily, the nineteen year old shut his eyes, knowing his overprotective big brother had him pegged. A blanket was pulled up to his chest once more.

He could go to sleep.In fact, his mind was on metaphorical hands and knees, begging for reprieve from the pain; but the tactician in him, the vigilante, was scolding him for such weakness. There was too much to do; to many plans to make. The assassins were still on the loose, still dangerous. Bruce hadn't been batman in weeks, but his two little brothers still roamed the streets on the Bat's behalf.

If the freaky-eight -what Jason had decided to dub them- really did let Jason get away; then it was likely with the aim of luring his family into a trap. He had to warn them.

But on the downside, warning them meant admitting he wasn't strong enough to handle them on his own. It meant admitting he'd gotten hurt. Then there was Bruce. He knew the Bat would have wanted to know how badly injured he was; but Jason hadn't had the courage to face him.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Dick, as he was tucking the blanket in, had seen the pensive and conflicted look on the younger man's face.

"I-" Jason sighed. "I think we need to tell Bruce." His voice had an airy quality, exhaustion settling in.

The first boy wonder stilled, finally rising to his feet and looking at the blood stained floor boards. He looked torn. If Bruce knew, he'd try and get involved. They weren't ready to give Bruce the mantel back yet. Because, while yes, he'd made great strides in getting himself put back together; as soon as they settled the cowl into his hands, he'd be back to shutting down emotionally, putting the city before his family.

In a sense, they couldn't trust that the changes he'd made would stick.

"I'm not saying give him back the cowl..." He took a breath. "-though I really don't care either way." A blatant lie, for Jason liked the new Bruce. "He needs to be in on it though, especially if his kids are the target."

Dick sighed, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jason was right. They'd talked about open communication and honesty. It couldn't just be convenient for _them._ Dick was trying hard not to stoop to the levels of hypocrisy.

"Okay. I'll call Tim, Babs, and Damian; have them meet us here. Then I'll call Bruce. That okay, little wing?"

Jason sighed. "The place isn't really presentable."

"Hardly the point." Dick shot back, no heat in his voice whatsoever. "The less you have to move around, the better. Try and get some sleep, little brother."

* * *

It was no more than half an hour later when the door bell rang. Dick used the peep hole to confirm the identities of Tim, Damian, and Barbara. He pulled the door open, admitting them quickly. It didn't matter that people saw them. The first boy wonder knew the second Boy Wonder would vacate the premises as soon as humanly possible, leaving nothing in his wake but an empty husk of a place with no clues.

"What's this about, Dick?" Barbara asked pointedly, rolling her wheel chair in ahead of Tim and Damian.

"Long story. We're waiting for Bruce. And hey, try to keep it down. Jason's sleeping." Dick jabbed a thumb towards the ratty old couch. Jason lay obliviously on the worn cushions, chest jerking with every pained inhale, shuddering on the exhale. He was shirtless, showing off the spectacular bruises lining his rib cage and wrapping around his shoulders. He was pale, dark shadows making his pale skin seem even paler.

"Holy crap." Tim breathed, kneeling next to Hood and letting his fingers press against Jason's carotid. Barbara pressed her lips together. "Did Bru-"

"No." Dick cut her off sharply.

"I was going to ask If Bruce was aware of this." Barbara slowly pointed out. "Not if he did it."

Damian bristled, perching on the couch arm closest to Jason's foot as Dick lowered his head with heat tinging his cheeks pink. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Barbara dryly replied. "I have to admit, a piece of me was wondering."

There was silence as Tim pulled his fingers away from Jason's throat, gently tugging the blankets around his chin. Jason shifted, but didn't wake. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He was awake and sitting up earlier. So yeah, I'd say so."

"I'm assuming his injuries have something to do with why you called." Damian astutely declared, folding his arms across his chest and studying Dick with piercing blue eyes. The first robin nodded, opening his mouth to elaborate.

**Knock Knock Knock**

Dick jumped, jerking towards the door. Damian flicked his wrist, a long narrow shiv-like dagger resting in his palm a moment later. Tim stood up and flanked Damian, blocking the view of the couch. Barbara reached to grab the baton she kept pinned to the underside of her chair. Dick checked the peep hole once more.

"It's just Bruce." He murmured, unlocking and unlatching the door so their surrogate father and mentor could enter the room. The teens at his back relaxed minutely, Damian's dagger vanishing; and Tim's stance draining of most tension.

It's no question that something is wrong. Bruce knew that when Dick insisted on meeting at Jason's safe house rather than the cave. The old bat was dressed in a long black trench coat, a white polo and beige work pants. It was meant to look casual, but the black cloak reminded them of who he really was. It reminded them that he was the most imposing vigilante in Gotham, probably the world, but most certainly in Gotham.

His face is impassive, closed off, as usual; but he frowns when he sees the small gathering of vigilantes. "What happened?" Tim stepped aside so Bruce could see Jason; and the old man's eyes widened. In seconds he had brushed past Dick, kneeling next to his son and placing a hand on the side of his cheek. "What happened?" He repeated, this time with a growl.

"He was jumped by mercs." Dick supplied, watching as Jason stirred under Bruce's hand. "They didn't even fight. He said they approached with hostages and ordered his immediate surrender. No fighting, no games. They beat him and tried to kill him; but he got away, or rather it looks like they let him escape instead. He called me, and I dragged him home. That was last night... or early this morning for those who prefer precision." He shot Tim a look at that.

"Why didn't you call me immediately?" Bruce demanded, looking at Dick with a scathing glare.

"Because-" The twenty-three year old shot back. "-he's afraid of being weak around you." Blunt and to the point. Bruce went wide eyed. "And I wasn't about to betray his trust by dragging him back to the cave when I could handle it myself."

Everyone went silent at that. Bruce bore a crumpled and frustrated look as he gently looked his son over.

"We think he isn't the only ones they were hired to take out. He got away too easy."

"Then we must take precautions." Damian surmised. "Drake, Gordon, and myself will search for these assassins. In the meantime, it would be wise to take Todd to the Manor."

"No." Dick shook his head. "He's gonna hate that."

"We all have to do things he don't like." Barbara declared. "And he's in no shape to fight. With Alfred and myself hanging around the manor, he won't be bored either." _He won't be alone with Bruce._ went unsaid but recognized.

"This place is probably compromised. If they followed him, and then you."

Dick sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We'll talk to him. If he wants to go, we'll go; if he doesn't, then we won't."

"But-"

"He's nineteen." Dick shot back, cutting Bruce off. "It's his choice, and he has a right to his opinion. We spent a lot of time telling him what he should or shouldn't want to do. We spent a lot of time putting thoughts, ideas, or wants into his head that he never had. We try to assume things, and that's only hurt him in the end."

Tim nodded in agreement.

"Som'ne finally said it." Bruce jumped at the puff of warm air on his hand. Jason was cracking one tired eye open.

"How long have you been awake?!" Dick demanded, eyes wide.

"Since the replacem'nt got here." Jason muttered tiredly. "Light sleeper."

"No kidding. At least I don't have to bring you up to speed." Dick paused. "What do you think, little wing?"

"Hate the manor." Bruce flinched at that. But he wasn't overly surprised either. He'd damaged his relationship with Jason, far worse than he liked to admit. He'd driven his second Robin away with a mountain of monumental mistakes. His own son was too afraid to approach him when injured, for fear of... fear of looking weak? Bruce scowled, and Jason looked away, guilt and panic flashing across his face.

"You'll be safe there." Tim pointed out. "And, you can help us like Oracle does. Just because you're injured, doesn't mean you're out."

The idea actually made Jason's eyes light up.

"If you focus on leading these three via monitor-" Oracle stated, waving at Dick; Tim; and Damian. "I can focus on digging up info on our mercenaries."

"Hmph." Jason closed his eyes, keeping one eyebrow arched as he considered it. Bruce held his breath. If Jason relented, then perhaps Bruce could prove to Jason that the manor was still his home. Maybe he could convince Jason that he didn't have to be afraid of being hurt. That he was far from weak. Jason let out a sigh, opening his hazy eyes and fixing Dick with a look. "Just until I'm well enough to get back into the fight."

Dick's shoulders sagged in relief. "Tim, Damian. I think -if it's okay with Bruce- that we should all stay at the manor. At least until this threat is absolved. We go out on patrol in pairs... use a buddy system. Someone always monitors our runs, be it Bruce, Alfred, Jay, or Babs."

Bruce pressed his lips together. He'd hoped with this new turn of events that they'd planned on giving him the cowl back; but hearing he was being put on monitor duty dashed them into a million smithereens. With a calming breath, he patted Jay's arm and stood up.

"Then it's settled." They noted the tense way he carried himself. "Dick, help me get Jay to the car. The rest of you, stay and clean this place up. I don't want a trace of the Red Hood here. After you're done, stick together and come back to the manor. No patrol until we have a system worked out."

They were wise enough not to argue, not they wanted to. Bruce wasn't pushing to be Batman. He'd rolled with the disappointment -something they all knew he harbored- and made the best of it.

Jay levered himself up, a permanent wince on his face. "Let Bruce and I do the work, little wing." Dick ordered, gently helping him into a jacket before grabbing Jason's arm and drawing it over his shoulder. The nineteen year old paled at the movement, his shoulder burning and his ribs stretching uncomfortably. Bruce did the same from the other side, one hand pressing against Jason's back, another settling over his stomach. Dick mimed it. Jason was grateful there were two of them. That meant he was not being held by the wrist, and action that put even more stress on his mangled shoulder.

Bruce and Dick stood up in practiced sync, dragging Jason with them. He gasped, letting his chin hit his chest as black besieged his vision and threatened to put him out. "Jason-" Bruce rumbled quietly. "-you gotta breathe."

On cue, he dragged in a rattling breath, forcing his legs to move. His little jog two feet from the couch earlier had taken it out of him. Now he was even more tired and sore.

"Minor detail." He rasped. "Breathin's for wimps."

Dick chuckled, and Bruce let out a rare snort that made Jason's right eyebrow shoot for the roof. He didn't have to put much weight on his leg; Bruce made sure of that. Still, they kept the pace slow.

"See ya, Jay." Tim waved. He didn't get a reply. Jason was too busy trying to stay conscious. As much as he hated to admit it, he was in rough shape. 

"This place have an elevator?" Bruce asked as they got to the top of the stairs.

 _"Out of order."_ Both Dick and Jason said simultaneously, perfectly synchronized. If Bruce had some snide remark, he left it unsaid, reaffirming his grip on Jason's back and stomach and beginning the slow decent down the stairs.

By the time they got out of the stair well, Jason was shaking with exertion, eyes closed and head sagged forward. He was focused solely keeping one foot in front of the other. "You've got this, Jason. The car's not far." Bruce assured. The boy mumbled unintelligibly, in what Bruce could assume, was a string of unrepeatable curses. Soon, Jason's been reclined in the back seat, head resting on Dick's lap. Bruce lets his hand linger on Jason's ankle, squeezing once as a show of support before he closes the car door and scurries to the front seat.

Dick carded his fingers through Jason's hair, but the nineteen year old is too out of it to notice.

"You have any of those painkillers back home?" Dick asks.

"Yes. We'll get him comfortable."

* * *

The twenty-minute drive through Gotham is a silent one. Bruce uses backroads to avoid the traffic jams slowing down the main roads. Jason is boneless, head resting on Dick's lap, eyes barely slits as he clung to consciousness. Dick had tried to get him to sleep; but with no avail.

They pulled up at the manor, putting into the spacious garage. Dick's already prepping Jason to move again, easing him into a sitting position as Bruce killed the engine. "We're gonna walk just a bit farther, Little Wing." Bruce pulled the car door open, helping Dick maneuver Jason out.

"I know." The injured teen hummed. "Then I can sleep... right?"

"As long as you need to." Bruce assured. "We'll get you some painkillers, and let Alfred dote all over you."

Jason snorted.

They made it to living room before said butler laid eyes on the trio of vigilantes. "My word! Master Jason!" In seconds, Alfred had cast his serving dish aside, gently cupping the side of Jason's face with a gloved hand.

"Hey, Alfie." Jay slurred, leaning into the touch. The butler pulled the jacket away and spotted the bruising. He noticed the way Jason's leg wasn't cooperating and sighed. "Carry him up to bed. I'll be along shortly with some painkillers. I trust Master Dick did admirable work; but I'd like to get an assessment of the wounds myself."

Bruce nodded, gently goading his son along.

Despite the mind consuming pain, Jason didn't utter a word of 'weak' complaint as they helped him up the stairs, choosing instead to suffer in silence. Bruce pressed his lips together, getting to the top of the stairs and nudging Jason's door open with his foot. He flicked on the light with a quick brush of his hand, not bothering to even stop. Jason's bed and ability to rest was only a few feet away; and far be it from Bruce to keep the kid from resting.

"Hold him." Bruce ordered, making sure Dick had a steady grip before releasing Jason. Bruce turned the covers down and fluffed a pillow. "I've got it from here, Dick. Why don't you go help Alfred get an IV stand up here?"

Dick pressed his lips together, not relenting his grip on Jason. Bruce didn't miss the unease flickering in his oldests' gaze. He wasn't surprised. Yes, it hurt to see it residing there; but he could understand.

"I'm not going to hurt him." Bruce deadpanned. "Do you honestly think I plan on beating my injured my son? One I've been working very hard on reconciling with?"

The unease remained, but Dick looked at Jason. "Jay?"

"S'fine. Go 'elp, Alfie."

Dick shot Bruce a warning look before releasing Jason's arm and turning to shuffle out. He left the door ajar. "Okay, Jay-" Bruce murmured, pulling his son against him gently. "-let's get you into bed."

Jason sagged in Bruce grip as Gotham's oldest vigilante sat him on the edge of the bed and helped him lie flat. He went boneless almost immediately, sagging into the sheets and shaking from pain. Bruce tugged the blanket back over him, only stopping to make sure his left arm was exposed for an Intravenous line.

"I'm sorry, Jason." Bruce muttered, not sure if the kid was with him anymore. "I know I've failed you. I know you're afraid of me... But I don't want you to be." He pulled the swiveling black desk chair over and sank into it. Jason tried to open his eyes; and Bruce gripped his hand. "But we can talk about it later. Get some sleep, Jay. We'll get some painkillers in you when Alfred gets up here."

Jason nodded- almost imperceptibly- , eyes finally shutting as exhaustion overwhelmed him.

* * *

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's read up to this point! For any of you who are curious, this is part of a series, though can technically be read and understood as a standalone.
> 
> The first in this series was 'The Batarang' that Sliced the Red Hood's Neck.- In which people actually gave Bruce grief for being an emotionally constipated Brick wall. It showed the league and the family's negative reaction to the events.
> 
> The second is 'Broken Minds and Mending the Hurt' which is revolving around Dick and Jason's growing brotherly friendship as they learn to trust each other with the hurt and pain.
> 
> This is the third in the series. 
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story or even constructive criticism, as I'm always looking to improve my work. 
> 
> That being said, until the next chapter- I bid you adieu  
> -Bl00dR4v3n


	3. Chapter 3

Jason stirred when he felt a pinprick pinch in the crook of his elbow. "Sorry, Master Jason." Alfred hummed, setting his arm down patting his bicep. "This should help with the pain." And, if Jason were being bluntly honest, it _did._ Tim had concocted a painkiller that worked despite his hyperactive metabolism and pit regeneration affects. He couldn't take too much; and only took it when he was in a lot of pain.

"S'okay. Thanks, Alfred."

"I'm going to be bluntly honest." Alfred leveled him with a look. "I don't appreciate the fact that the only times we meet are when you happen to be injured."

Jason winced at the grim look on his surrogate grandfather's face. He loved Alfred, probably more than any of them. He was the only one who'd showed any form of support through absolutely everything. Despite his spats with Bruce, rocky (albeit formerly rocky) relationship with Dick, and his status as outcast, his love and respect for the Batfamily butler had never once wavered.

"I'm sorry." He sighed, feeling a cold wave wash through his veins as Alfred started the drip. "It's just the... manor... ya know?"

"And who said I am restricted to the manor grounds?" Alfred asked pointedly. Jason frowned, eyes narrowing guiltily. 

"Sorry."

Alfred shook his head, grabbing Jason's hand and lightly squeezing. "It's alright, my boy. You haven't had it easy since your return. But I aim to see to it that our relationship stays strong, despite whatever may come. Even if I have to meet you somewhere _else_ for tea." A small genuine smile passed over Jason's lips. "Now, I need to see what those rapscallions did to you. I'll be as gentle as I can."

Jason nodded.

Dick must have briefed Alfred; because he mostly left Jason's shoulders and ribs alone. He did check the bandages to make sure they hadn't gotten loose. "Gah." Jason hissed as he rechecked for internal bleeding, probing Jason's stomach before removing his hands. "Sorry. Master Dick suggested I check again, as it has been some time. However, I am happy to report that it seems you are merely bruised."

Jason closed his eyes, feeling slightly relieved that his luck hadn't bottomed out again. Alfred tugged his pants' leg up and checked the bandage around his thigh. It wasn't spotted red, meaning the stitches had held.

"Well, unless there's something Master Dick failed to mention, I believe that's all of it. Someone will be in here at all times to keep you company." 

"What, don't trust me?" A flash of bitterness reared it's ugly head. He hated when it happened, but being doused in a Lazarus pit had the ability to bring the worst out in people. The lucky ones only stayed 'mad' for a few days. The unlucky ones -like Jason- battled the insanity and anger for years. Jason had overcome the constant rage, anger, and lust for revenge; but his little dunk had still left him hot tempered.

And what was worse, was that it reared its head at the most inopportune moments. For instance, he could (Emphasis on _could_ ) be mild mannered and polite while talking with Bruce over touchy subjects; but lash out at Alfred over the most mundane things. The anger came and went, leaving Jason with no control over when. It was infuriating in its own regard.

Alfred didn't seem fazed. "On the contrary, Master Jason. It is not _you_ that I don't trust."

"He's not gonna hurt me, Alfred."

"I once believed that to be true. But he has hurt both you and Master Dick."

Jason frowned, averting his gaze from Alfred's eyes. "Neither of us were thinking right. I don't blame him for hitting me in the neck with a batarang."

"You _should_." Alfred replied, tone heavy.

"I wasn't exactly being a _good guy._ " Jason pressed, trying to prop himself up. His shoulders ached in protest, but he refused to argue this point flat on his back. "I hurt him, hurt his sons, was trying to _kill_ the Joker."

Alfred, scowled and took Jason's chin to make their eyes meet. "Look me in the eye and tell me you were of a sound mind when you came back to Gotham. Tell me you remember at least half of what happened."

Jason looked him in the eye and opened his mouth. He didn't. Most of what happened was a green haze. He couldn't remember how he'd tried to take Tim out, couldn't remember the details of what had happened to Bruce, or with the Joker. There were flashes of his showdown, and he remembered cold steel biting into his neck; an explosion... and then nothing for weeks.

"I..." He closed his eyes. "I can't."

"You were lost, hurt." Alfred replied, letting go of Jason's chin and pressing him back against the bed. "He should have brought you home..." Alfred's voice caught. "He shouldn't have... He..." _Shouldn't have tried to kill you. Shouldn't have hurt you._

"It's okay Alfred." Jason gripped his hand, mindful of the line pumping him full of painkillers. "I'm home now."

The place didn't feel like home; and Jason doubted it ever would... But in the metaphorical sense, it was true. He was back in the family, working to make a place for himself alongside his brothers. He wasn't going to cut ties with Alfred, not again. Alfred wiped a lone tear from his cheek with the back of his hand, shooting Jason a wobbling half smile.

"And no matter what happens between me and Bruce, I'll stay in touch. I promise."

And promises mattered.

"Thankyou, Master Jason." Alfred whispered, squeezing the boy's hand. "It makes me glad to hear so."

* * *

Alfred had gone to make lunch, leaving a slumbering Jason under the watchful eye of Dick Grayson. The first boy wonder had his eyes on the glowing screen of his phone. He was texting Oracle.

_Hunk Wonder: Anything?_

_Unbelievable Babs: Not yet. Is he asleep?_

_Hunk Wonder: Yup. He's so peaceful when he sleeps._

_Unbelievable Babs: And then he wakes up._

_Hunk Wonder: *Sigh* And then he wakes up._

Dick put his phone away when the door squeaked. When you train as a bat, you learn to be aware of your surroundings at all times. Not knowing when someone's hiding behind you can be the difference between life and death. However, once you turn that ability on, you can never turn it back off again.

Dick whirled around, electrical nub of his baton a mere two centimeters away from Bruce's throat. He frowned. Since when did he get jumpy enough to grab a baton in the manor?

"Sorry." He whispered, clicking the button to deactivate the electrical nodes and setting the baton back on Jason's night stand. Bruce sighed, studying the hardwood floor for a long moment.

"I guess it's pointless to try and convince you that you're safe here."

A stab of guilt jammed itself into Dick's gut, making an appearance on his face. He didn't want to admit that he'd gotten jumpy around his mentor; but they both knew it. The court of Owls had been a stressful event for the both of them. When Bruce had clocked Dick on the jaw, knocking an incriminating tooth free, he'd chocked it up to the stress eating away at everyone's nerves. He'd buried the feelings and moved on.

When it came to light that Bruce had hurt Jason, failed his second so miserably, people had forced the truth out of Dick as well. All of those feelings, the shock, the anger, the things he'd sworn he didn't feel, had been dredged back up in all their ugly glory.

He had forgiven Bruce. But those feelings hadn't entirely gone away. He didn't want Jason and Bruce left alone if he could avoid it. He didn't think the bat would attack Jason, but Bruce had a lousy history with tact. He'd likely say something that ticked Jason off and drove him away. Until Bruce hadn't gotten himself sorted out, he didn't need to be hounding Jason, and Dick fully believed he would.

"I'm sorry, Bruce." Dick apologized. "It's just... I'm..."

"I understand." Bruce cut him off. "You have every right to be jumpy around me; but I promise I won't hurt you." _Like you promised you don't kill?_ A cynical voice in the back of Dick's head sneered. _That_ _batarang scar on Jason's neck says a whole other story._ He squashed the thought.

"It's going to take time, Bruce." Dick sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "You... you scared Tim and betrayed Damian's trust. I forgive you. So does Jay. But it's going to take some time for us to _trust_ you again."

"I know."

"Good. I love you, B."

"I..." Bruce cleared his throat. "Likewise. I assure you."

A wry smile crossed Dick's lips. "Well, close enough."

"I'm working on it. My psychiatrist says it's a mental block."

"After what you've been through, you're scared of saying it. If you say it, they know it. They get close; and then something happens, and you lose them. That's the thing though, Bruce." Dick pointed out. "It doesn't matter if you _say_ it. I know it. So does Damian, and Tim." Bruce noted that he didn't include Jason in the list. "And we're close to you, whether you say it or not."

"But Jason?"

"You usually _show_ your love rather than spell it out." Dick replied hesitantly. "And you haven't exactly shown it to him. You haven't been close enough to him. You've held him at arm's length because he has a rough past. What I don't understand is why you took the kid stealing your tires; but not the traumatized kid who'd been dunked in a Lazarus pit... the one who _really_ needed your love."

Bruce pressed his lips together. It was a valid point.

"I just... I..."

"You don't need to explain it to me." Dick interrupted quietly, raising a hand. "I'm not the one who needs to know. _He_ is."

Bruce fell silent, a pained look on his face.

Dick shrugged, leaning back in the swivel chair. "It's just something to think about."

Bruce nodded, turning to leave his two boys in peace. "Yeah." He got to the door, hand gripping the frame as he lowered his head. "Dick... I..."

Dick silently looked at him, eyebrow raised curiously.

"I love you."

A broad smile flickered across the twenty-three year old's face. "I love you too, B."

* * *

Jason was reading. He'd been given a stack of books by Dick, who was content to sit quietly in the chair and play games on his phone. It was a routine they established at Ma Kent's. They talked, but Dick had learned pretty quickly that Jason enjoyed silent company more than chatty company. So they'd sit in each other's presence and do their own thing.

Jason looked up when the door opened, yanking one of Dick's ear buds out at the same time. He glanced up and over, smiling broadly as the Red Headed Barbara Gordon rolled her wheel chair in.

"Hey, Babs." Dick greeted, scooching the chair over.

"Hey, Hunk Wonder."

"Oof... _get a room_. Specifically not _mine._ " Jason groaned. Behind Barbara, Tim, Damian, and Bruce entered.

Barbara rolled her eyes. "I called a family meeting."

"Oops. Looks like I'm out." Jason joked, instantly regretting it when Dick shot him a startled and somewhat sad look. "I'm joking! I'm joking! Sheesh, _Hunk wonder,_ Put the puppy dog eyes away!" Dick buried his face in his hands as his red headed girlfriend shot Jason an amused look.

"You weren't supposed to call me that in front of people, _B_ _abs._ "

"Oh please, Dick, since when have you _ever_ had any shame?" The paraplegic replied casually.

Tim rolled his eyes. "What did you find?" He asked shortly, taking a tentative step away from Bruce. The old bat pretended not to notice.

"I did some digging." Babs explained quickly. "Jason, did you know you have no _fewer_ than eight bounties on your head?"

"Actually, I have seventeen."

Silence.

Finally Dick whistled under his breath.

Bruce looked a little shocked, equally as worried... Well as worried as the Batman could look under normal circumstances anyway. "You didn't think to mention that?"

"No. Never came up. And I haven't had help so far... or needed it-" Dick lowered his head, looking guilty. He'd have to make up for that jab later. It was aimed right at Bruce. "Besides, something tells me that the bounties Barbie found have nothing to do with last night."

"He's right. All of the bounties have takers, but they're people he's run into and stopped... or nipped in the bud by taking out the client. Point is. He _did_ have them handled. The eight people Jason ran into last night must have been paid directly by the client."

"In other words, an official open bounty was never declared." Tim interjected.

"Exactly. I think that whoever wanted Jason... and possibly the rest of us taken out, didn't make the bounty public. They may very well have just handpicked and hired the assassins."

"Who are the assassins?"

"I'm... still working on that. I don't know what they look like. So I can't run facial recognition. Jason, where did they attack you?"

"The residential district, on top of Newman's Apartment complex."

"Great. I'll see if any cameras were aimed at the scene and let you know what I find. In the meantime, I want some of you to run to the scene and look for physical evidence-"

"There won't be any." Jason interjected suddenly, looking a bit peeved. He should have found a way to get evidence, knee the guy in the face hard enough to draw blood, scratched someone, done something. But he'd been too focused on getting away to think of it before hand. Dick leveled him with a curious look.

"What do you mean, Jay?"

"They had hostages. I didn't put up a fight. There won't be evidence."

Barbara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and dislodging her glasses. "Point taken. I'll review the camera feeds. See what I can come up with. In the meantime, you all had better figure out how to work this buddy system of Dick's. The Batsignal's been lit."

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce sat at the computer in the cave, eyes glued to the mask feed and ears tuned to the chatter. It ranged from playful banter to full on bickering, usually Red Robin and Tim picking at each other. He'd tried to call order, but largely ignored. He grit his teeth and sighed.

He missed being out there to help, the nightly crusades to keep crime at bay. But he'd made his bed, hurt his family, and now he was paying penance. 

His psychiatrist told him that this development worked in his favor. He could begrudgingly agree.

"Wing, watch your flank!" Red Robin barked, skillfully dropping poison ivy with a right roundhouse kick.

Dick's cowl footage whipped around; and Bruce jumped. Bane was charging at his eldest son, a burly mass of muscles with fists the size of boulders. 

Dick handled it gracefully, jumping up and doing a one handed hand stand on Bane's head before letting himself flip over and land in a crouch behind the behemoth.

He whirled around, birdarangs whizzing through the air and slicing the tubes pumping bane full of Venom.

Green goo spurted through the air as Bane screamed and dropped to his knees. 

Nightwing then jumped to pull the mad hatter off his youngest brother.

"I had him." Robin growled.

"I know." Dick replied Flippantly. "But I take my job as big brother quite seriously."

Bruce heard a shuffle behind him. "How they doin?"

He startled, turning to see Jason limping towards the computer, leg working at half effeciency and barely holding up any his weight.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bruce hummed, calculating blue eyes studying his injured son.

The boy was struggling to hold it together, shaking from exhaustion with one hand wrapped around his ribs. How he'd made it all the way downstairs was a mystery to Bruce. Then again, he barely had.

"Couldn't sleep." Jason admitted dryly, leaning heavily on one of the waist high consoles. "And Barbie conched out. didn't even notice me sneaking out."

"Hn." Bruce stood up and swiveled his chair. "Sit down before you fall down.

Jason hobbled over, leg way too stiff. He bit his lip, turning carefully and gripping the arm rests. As soon as any weight was put on his damaged shoulders, a dull ache flared out; and he had to stifle a hiss of pain.

Without a word, Bruce gently put a heavy warm hand in the center of Jason's back, steadying his descent into the cloth throne of the bat.

"Thanks." Jay breathed, shutting his eyes for a moment too long. _He's tired_. Bruce mused. _He really should be upstairs._

"Hn." The old bat replied typically. "Where's your IV?"

"Upstairs." 

"Aren't you in pain?"

"No. I've only been beaten to a pulp and shot. I'm feeling terrific."

Silence. Bruce kept an eye on the screen, unsure of how to proceed. It bothered him that Jason would choose to be working and in pain rather that rest.

Dick had quite plainly explained it back at Jason's safehouse apartment. The former second Robin was terrified of being weak around Bruce, feeling unneeded. It hurt Bruce in ways he could never express to another breathing soul, to know that his children saw him as more of a commanding officer than a friend and a father. He glanced over to the display case. _A good soldier_ \- it said.

He'd drilled into their heads how to survive, to push themselves to the max. He never taught them how to be humans with regular human wants and needs. There wasn't time for them to truly relax, especially around Bruce.

He'd made them into soldiers, forgetting that they were his sons in the process. That was a guilt he'd forever live with. The mission had always come first. Now his children pushed themselves to uncanny extremes to prove their worth... to him.

Bruce studied his son. He was gazing at the screen, watching the mask feeds. Despite looking wide awake, Jason had dark rings under his eyes. His shoulders drooped. He was barely hanging on by a thread, trying to prove he could keep going.

"Man the comms." Bruce gruffly huffed, stalking off when Jason hummed his acknowledgement to the command.

Jason heard rattling, glancing over his shoulders and wincing when the action made his shoulders sting. Bruce was lugging an IV stand over. "What-"

"You're in pain."

"I'm fine." Jason growled. Bruce leveled him with an unamused look. The boy flinched, looking away.

"Jason-" Bruce sighed, awkwardly running a hand through his short black hair. He was opening himself up for a violent attack here. It wouldn't be the first time. "You need to stop pushing yourself."

"Pft!" Jason scoffed. "That's rich, coming from _you_ of all people."

"It's been well established that I'm an idiot. Don't follow my example." Bruce deadpanned, taking the jab and rolling with it. Jason blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "You can be down here, but I'd like you to be comfortable."

Jason shrugged and waved his hand haphazardly. "I really don't want it." 

Bruce could have insisted; but the dangerous look in Jason's eye stopped him. His psychiatrist had warned him that being pushing and controlling was a great way to drive his more free minded sons away. Dick, Jason, and Tim were no longer expressly under his roof; nor were they confined by his rules.

With a sigh, he left the IV stand next to the computer and ran a tired hand down his face. "Okay." He acquiesced.

The others had the Arkham break out handled, Nightwing and Robin following up with Gordon while Red Robin went to patrol Crime Alley.

Jason wasn't focused on that. Not at all. He seemed wary, eyes narrowing. " _Okay_? No pushing? No telling me you know best?"

"You're nearly twenty." Bruce Replied flatly. "If you want to be in pain, that's on you." It came out snappier than the bat intended, and he noticed Jason flinch out of the corner of his vision.

"It's-" Jason shook his head. "I'm not masochistic or anything. I just..." He sighed. "I develop tolerance really fast. Thanks to the pit. As far as I know, that's the only painkiller that works on me, and I... I'm gonna get hurt worse. It's an inevitability in our line of work."

Bruce narrowed his gaze, turning to look at his son. 

  
"And you're afraid I'm going to think you're weak for being hurt. For resting. If you're in pain, you're more driven to work and take your mind off of it." Not a question. Jason paled slightly, eyes flickering away from Bruce in unintentional confirmation.

Bruce frowned, turning off the computer monitor so he could solely focus on his second son.

"You aren't weak, Jason. You never have been."

"But-"

"Let me finish. You aren't weak. A weak kid wouldn't have had the guts to steal tires off the batmobile, then to be taken in by the bat and fill massive shoes like Robin's. A weak kid wouldn't have had the guts to face the joker-"

"I died."

"And then you came back. A weak kid wouldn't have survived initiation into the Al caste-" Jason opened his mouth.  
"Yes I know about that." Bruce cut him off. "You went insane, and then clawed your way back, came back tougher, stronger, and smarter." Jason looked away, but Bruce put a hand on the side of his face, forcing their eyes to meet.

"You fought insurmountable odds and put yourself back together after serious trauma. A weak kid, could never pull that off."

Jason let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes.

"You are one of the strongest people I know, Jason. Next to Alfred. Because he puts up with all of our crap." Jason snorted softly, a tear escaping the corner of his eye. "You're stronger than even me. And I'm proud of you." Bruce ran a thumb along Jason's cheek bone, forcing as much sincerity as he could into the words he spoke next. "Do you _hear_ me, Jason? I'm _proud_ of you."

Jason lowered his head, another tear dripping down his cheek.

" _You_ need to be proud of you too."

"How can I be?" Jason asked, clenching his hands. "I'm just a shell." He looked at Bruce with haunted eyes. "I'm not supposed to be alive. This skin, it belongs to a dead boy. He should have grown up, not become this... This monster. It doesn't feel right. I'm not right. I never will be." He looked pale, a lot more broken as the admission left his lips. Bruce pressed his lips together and stroked Jason's cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away.

"You're hurt, Jason. I ignored it for so long, that it spiraled. I should have told you this a long time ago. No, you aren't perfect. You never will be."

Jason inhaled, lowering and averting his gaze with a pained and defeated look in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "I tried. I tried to be good enough. I-"

Bruce kept his hand against Jason's cheek. "Let me finish. Not even _Dick_ ' _s_ perfect." He continued. "But that's the _thing_. I don't _care_. Jason, you're my son. Yes, I've hurt you; and you've hurt me right back. But I still... I still love you." Jason stared at him wide eyes. "You're not perfect. You're damaged, and so am I. That's why it works. I understand, living up to unbelievable expectations. And I'm going to be bluntly honest. I regret making you Robin."

Jason reeled. 

"I regret making Dick Robin. And Tim. And Damian. I should have let you be teenagers, live out your lives; but I didn't. I was selfish."

Bruce let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. " _But_... I never. _Ever_. Regretted making you my son. I am proud to call you my family. And no matter what you do, I will always love you. You're amazing Jason Todd. You always have been. I'm proud of what you've overcome. Proud of who you've _become_."

Jason, as a broken sob tore its way from his throat, buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

Bruce wasn't a hugger, and neither was Jason; but they would make an exception. He gently wrapped his arms around the quivering nineteen year old's shoulders, setting his chin on top of the kid's head.

Jason sniffed. "I'm sorry. I don't'- It's... I can't... You'll leave me again. I'll fail, and then-"

A piece of Bruce broke. His son had been alone, both literally and figuratively, for too long. He was too afraid to come to Bruce, too paranoid to turn to his brothers -until more recently-; and it had taken its toll.

"Shh. I know."Bruce soothed, rubbing circles up and down Jason's spine and the undamaged sections of his shoulders. "I'm not letting you go. Do you hear me? You are my son, and I plan to start treating you like it. I don't care if you mess up. We'll deal with it. I promise."

"But I don't deserve-"

"Hush. You most certainly _do_. It's me who doesn't deserve anything. I don't deserve you, any of you."

How far did his son's depression reach? Bruce had a feeling he hadn't even scratched the surface. It left a bad taste in his mouth. His son didn't feel like he deserved what was rightfully his. 

"You deserve this family. And you deserve a less crappy father... But I'm too selfish to give you a new dad." Jason choked out a wet laugh wracked by sobs. "So I'm just going to work on being a better one."

There was a moment of silence.

"'Kay." Jason finally sniffed. "I -an live 'ith that."

"Good."

After a long moment of relishing the rare hug, Jason pulled away, eyes red rimmed and tired. He winced, one arm wrapping around his ribs, the other hand ghosting over his leg.

The crying had awoken a fire in his sides that left him tired and achy, eyes bearing tale of the exhaustion threatening to shut his mind down. "Come on, Jay." Bruce urged. "Let's get you back to bed. I can send Alfred down to man the comms." Jason frowned, and Bruce sighed. "It's okay to rest. I promise."

The fire and reluctance bled away, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "M'sorry."

"Nope." Bruce scolded. "You do _not_ get to apologize. Not for this."

He helped Jason stand, the young man listing sideways into Bruce's side.

"M'not sure I can make it upstairs." Jason admitted after taking a few steps. The color had drained from his face, leaving him paler than the crisp white bedsheets upstairs. "Might be better off in the med bay."

"On that bed? Not a chance." Bruce scoffed. "Hang on." He maneuvered the second Robin's arm over his shoulder, stooping slightly and gripping Jason under the knees.

"Wait-"

He scooped Jason's feet off the floor.

"What are you-"

"Easy, Jay. Don't struggle. I've got you."

Jay buried his face in Bruce's shoulder, cheeks flushing scarlet with embarrassment.

"This is awkward." Bruce felt the words more than heard them.

"And it's easy. Pros and cons. Pros and cons." Bruce replied, stepping onto the elevator

Jason huffed, eyes slipping closed of their own accord. He fought to open them again.

The metal slats of the elevator door pulled aside, revealing the hallway of Wayne Manor.   
He shuffled into the living room with his precious cargo.

"We're not goin' to my room?"

"I had something else in mind." Bruce replied, carefully setting his son down on the couch.

* * *

Dick bit into his juicy Batburger, wiping the grease from his mouth with a napkin after he'd swallowed. He sat between his two younger brothers, deep in thought. "I can't believe B left his comm line open."

"Well he never thinks clearly when it comes to Jason." Tim pointed out, popping a fry in his mouth. "But... I think I needed to hear that." Tim admitted. "Even if it _wasn't_ meant for me. It means he still cares... I guess."

"Damian?"

"I hold no opinion at this time. Father has failed grievously towards Todd... and broken his word to me."

"Damian, you know he wasn't trying to kill him. Not really."

"Yes." Damian replied, voice flat and neutral. He was distancing himself from the situation. "But it hardly matters."

* * *

Alfred stopped by the living room door. Bruce had pinned him down in the kitchen, claiming he needed to attend to business up in his study. He'd spent the last hour coordinating the efforts of the three young vigilantes roof hopping.

Now that they were on their way home, he was back upstairs.

He wondered who on earth would be watching television. Bruce was in his study, Barbara upstairs with Jason, leaving Alfred alone in the lower levels of the manor. He stopped in the doorway.

He realized that Bruce was not in his study. Bruce was sitting on the couch, Jason stretched out on the long cushions next to him, resting on his back, head pillowed in his mentor's lap. Bruce's arm was draped protectively across Jason's chest, thumb rubbing small circles on his bicep. A blanket had been tugged up to the injured vigilante's chin; and Alfred realized with a start that Jason looked... _Happy._

The batfamily butler stood for a long minute.

Maybe ... perhaps just _maybe,_ the family was pulling itself back together, starting with the 'black sheep.'

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

"Well?"

Swift smiled smugly, an ugly sneer that stretched across his scarred and unappealing face. "Well boss, the plan went off without a hitch. We let the rat go, and he led us right back to the flock." He folded his hands behind his back, giving himself an air of formality as he glanced at his employer. "We're ready to strike." With a careful move, he set a burner phone down on the desk. "And your gift was sent..." The employer took the burner phone, rotating it in his fingers with a nod. Swift stood awkwardly, not dismissed, and not dismissing himself.

"Yes?" The man behind the desk huffed, giving Swift permission to speak his mind. "Well... I uh... I'm curious." Swift admitted, tossing weight from one foot to the other. Typically it wasn't an employee's place to question; but the curiosity was eating at him. "You told us you wanted Hood brought in alive. But..." Swift ran a hand through his cropped blond hair. "Then ya changed your orders. last minute."

"My _wife_ changed my orders last minute." The employer corrected, twirling a pen between his fingers. " _I_ still want Jason brought in alive... Under certain circumstances; but that's for me to worry about."

Swift hummed in acknowledgement. "And the others?"

"Kill them."

* * *

Bruce had dozed off, Jason's head propped lightly on his lap. When he awoke, the pressure was gone. Jason had vanished. Scrubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, Bruce rose to his feet and folded the blanket, leaving it draped over the arm of the couch.

The library was empty, as was the kitchen. He found Dick in the second living room, Tim sidled up next to him on the couch. Both had their noses in laptops, pointing at each other's devices and laughing quietly. Bruce left them be. He passed by a window and spotted Damian once again obliterating his shrubbery with a katana. He'd have to pay for yet another gardener to try and salvage the hedge bushes. He didn't hold high hopes.

Alfred was in the bathroom, scrubbing the floor. Bruce passed by wordlessly.

He found Oracle waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Her mechanized wheel chair was sitting as close to the edge of the steps as it could be without losing balance. Her brow was furrowed. "Just the guy I wanted to see."

"Find anything, Barbara?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. It's a bit of a mystery." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I found video coverage of the event. They pinned Jason down, beat him, and then dragged him to the docks. Then he managed to slip away, into the harbor. They shot at him, and then the cameras blanked. We were correct in our assumptions that Jason was released. It was a great coverup, but... I couldn't find anything on the assassins. Either they're masters at laying low, or newly trained. Either way, we've got nothing."

"They obviously have a means to keep Jason. Otherwise, they wouldn't have let him go." Bruce pointed out. "Meaning they never lost him, or they have a tracker on him."

"You'd better find him and check." Babs replied, shoving her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a sigh. Bruce nodded.

* * *

Jason shuffled into his room, a book clutched to his chest. He'd woken up nearly ten minutes before, spent an agonizing four minutes climbing up the stairs, and six minutes-ish finding a book from the upstairs library. Then he had to walk back to his room. Should he have asked for help? Heck yes. Did he? Heck no. He wasn't an invalid, and after his sob-filled breakdown, Jason just wanted to be on his own for a while.

After flicking on the light, he hobbled towards his bed.

That's when he saw it.

A small burner phone sat nestled on his pillow, a red ribbon tied around the antenna. Jason's semi blue eyes rolled of their own accord. Dick had pulled this trick once before; leaving phones lying around. Jason picked the device up, flipping the lid and poking around. He checked the messages, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Dick always left creepy messages like _I'm watching you._ or _Beware._

The only person it really spooked was Alfred. The others found it highly amusing.

The messages were empty, so Jason moved on contacts. There was a number, one. It appeared both in the regular contacts, favorites contacts, and emergency contacts. Setting his book on the side of the bed, Jason dialed.

_Beep Beep Beep - **Click.**_

"Dick, this prank isn't even funny anymore." Jason huffed.

 _"Oh I assure you, this isn't Mr. Grayson; and it's certainly not a prank, Jason."_ A chillingly familiar voice replied. It was cold, devoid of emotion. Jason stood up, feeling pain twinging in his leg but ignoring it.

_Nonononononono. He's dead. He's dead._

Jason's breathing picked up. "How?" Jason croaked. "How did you get a phone in here?"

Glancing wildly around, Jason noticed for the first time that his window had been opened. The thick black curtains billowed and warped in the breeze. The Manor had been compromised.

_"Now now... We both know you're smarter than that, Son."_

"Don't call me that!" Jason snarled, raising his voice. He begged someone to hear him. "You're behind this aren't you!?" Silence. **"Aren't you**?!"

_"If you're referring to the mercenaries, then yes, I am."_

Jason felt sick, stomach revolting. He fought back bile. This was wrong, messed up.

_"I know who you are, Jason. I know what you've been through. You were weak when you were younger; but now you're strong, strong enough to join me. We could be great together. We could rule Gotham."_

"Screw you! There's no way in he-"

 _"Such a shame. You can't honestly believe they want you there. Wayne's rich. You're a charity case, something to be fixed. You'll never have a place there because you're too much like your dad. You're a criminal, and nothing you ever do will fix that. They will never truly trust you."_ The voice sneered. _"You belong with me. They'll never accept you for what you are."_

"And what am I?" Jason growled, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut.

_"A Todd."_

A beat. Nausea welled in Jason's stomach.

_"My son."_


	6. Chapter 6 (Second of the Day, YAY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like a dodo, I forgot to put these trigger warnings in.   
> So.   
> ~Warning for mild torture  
> and  
> ~Warning for child abuse (a parent beats their already grown up kid, so IDK if it counts. But it's here.)

Willis Todd was dead. Jason had been told as much years before. How could the boy have not seen it? Death was more often than not superficial when it came to anyone connected to the superhero community. But there were people Jason hadn't _wanted_ to come back. His childhood abuser had definitely been one of them.

Now, to hear Willis openly claiming his son, after years of trauma and abuse, it left him sick inside. He felt the phantom pain of a belt slamming down on his shoulders, his back, flinching accordingly and nearly dropping the phone. His breathing was coming out in short sharp gasps. But he glared at the floor.

"I. am. _Not._ your son." Jason growled out between gasps. "And I will _never_ join you."

_"Then you'll die alongside your friends."_

Jason heard a muffled beep, eyes widening in horror. It was an all too familiar beep. There was a sharp ripping in his leg as he ran; but it wasn't enough. The explosive under his bed shook the house, engulfing the room in fire. Jason went flying, hitting the wall of the hallway. He felt a sickening crack in his chest as he fell back and hit the floor with a thud. Smoke poured out, billowing in his hazy vision as he gasped in pain.

* * *

Bruce was just stepping away from Barbara when the the house shuddered violently, the roar of an explosion nearly deafening the both of them. Barbara's chair teetered forward, but Gotham's bat wrapped an arm around her shoulder, dragging her towards the explosion as smoke started billowing down the corridor. Jason hadn't been downstairs, and the explosion had been upstairs.

"Jason!" Bruce cried, horror lacing his tone. " _Jason!_ " He took off, leaving Babs on the top step, her hand clutching her chest in fright, eyes wide in terror. The smoke was thick as he bolted down the hallway. There was thick black smoke and the crackling of flames leaping and dancing wildly at the doorframe.

Bruce reached up, grabbing a painting off the wall and flinging it away. The frame cracked upon impact, but he was more concerned about the cleft in the wall housing a switch. He flicked it, and small panels pulled away in the ceiling, sprinklers dropping and spraying frigid water. The carpets on this level would be soaked, anything paper ruined. Thankfully, the library was on it's own fire prevention system that had to be activated manually.

Bruce wasn't thinking about that, but rather the figure pressed against the wall opposite Jason's door.

"Jason!" Bruce called, dropping to his knees, hands hovering over his son. The boy was hyperventilating, eyes wide and panicked, unseeing. Every breath was punctuated by a pained whimper, hands clutching his ribs. Broken ribs and hyperventilation did not mix. "Jason, you need to calm down." Bruce soothed, taking his son's hand. "Breathe with me. In-" He inhaled sharply. "Out-" Same forceful motion. "In-" This time, Jason mimicked weakly. "Out... there you go..."

Comprehension returned to Jason's eyes, and they flickered to find Bruce's. "Nnnn." He sucked in a breath, slamming his eyes shut as pain ravaged his chest and radiated from his torn stitches. His fingers balled into a fist.

"What hurts, Jay?" Bruce asked, cupping his son's cheek and looking him over. His eyes widened as he saw a growing blood patch on Jason's trousers. Jason's ears were ringing, but he got the gist of Bruce's question based on body language.

Silently, Jason twitched, uncurling his fist and pointing to his thigh. Heavy hands came to rest on his legs, forcing them to uncrumple and lie straight. Jason's vision whited out; and for a moment, all he heard was ringing as Bruce tried to flatten him out. A hand came to rest on his face, fingers coiling into his sweaty debris littered hair. "Stay with me, Jay. Stay conscious." Jay can read his lips. _Stay conscious._ Like it's as easy as flipping a switch! Jason grit his teeth and bit back a breathy moan.

"Bruce!" He looked up to see Dick and Tim, Damian close on their heels. "Dick! Grab the first aid kit!" Bruce snarled, eyes returning to Jason. "Tim, check on Alfred. Damian, Leslie." They stared, gobsmacked at the sight of Jason, and his now smoldering room. "Did I stutter?" Bruce bellowed. _"Now!"_

The bark spurred the boys into action. Jason flinched at seeing Bruce angry, trying to curl up, away from the shouting. "It's okay, Jay." Bruce said loudly, trying to cut through the ringing deafening his son. His hands pressed against Jason's chest to keep him in place. Then his hand settled on Jason's squeezing firmly before he let go, fingers lightly ghosted over the wound on the boy's leg, ripping through the pant leg to make sure no sharp debris was in the wound. Jason felt Bruce's fingers probing the wound, swallowing thickly and shifting. "Easy. This is going to hurt, Jason." Bruce murmured, holding the nineteen year old's leg still. Then his palms came to rest over the wound. He pushed down, hard.

"Nnnhun." Jason groaned, fighting not to jerk away from the intense pain radiating from his thigh. He really wanted a new leg.

Dick's feet thundered up the stairs, every crack of his shoes against the wooden panels bouncing through the floor. Jason felt the vibration against the back of his skull. Slowly, the ringing was abating, letting him hear once more.

"-t the ki-" Dick suddenly appeared in his vision, kneeling next to him. The area suddenly felt too tight; but Dick was passing off the metal first aid kit, resting it next to Jason and pulling gauze out.

Jason watched warily as Dick undid the packet and pulled the white material from it's plastic protector. Dick caught his gaze, holding the label up so the second robin could see it. Then he passed the material along to Bruce. The pain lets up, bitter sweet relief as the material is placed where Bruce's hands once were. Then the pain comes back, and Jason wasn't prepared.

His back arched, eyes widening. Instantly, Dick had a hand pressed against his stomach, pushing him back to the floor. It was too much, the pain, the agony. He shifted, shaky hand finding Dick's and squeezing for dear life. It still doesn't do much to help the black recede from his vision.

"Stay with me." The ringing's gone. "Eyes on me, Jay."

And Jay tries. He needs a distraction. "W..." He cleared his throat. " _Willis."_ He breathes. Dick went pale, eyes widening as he and Bruce shared a look.

"He's not here, little wing. He's dead, remember?"

" _N...n...No."_ Talking hurt. Jason had reinjured his ribs. _"A...Alive."_

"I think he's delirious." Bruce states, emphasizing the word 'think.' His eyes search Jason's as he packs on another gauze pad and wraps the elastic bandage around his thigh.

Now Jason looked ticked, taking a deep breath -as deep as he could all things considered-. "Willis... alive... hired... them... planted... the... th..." Silently he pointed to his room. Jason jerked, whimpering as he forced his arm to move to his pocket, numb fingers patting a bulge in his jacket. Dick had gone pale, eyes locking with an equally horrified Bruce. Because, no. Jason wasn't delirious. He was _dead_ serious. Dick took Jason's hand, setting it on the floor gently before he pulled the burner phone out.

"Oh..."

"Keep it. We'll see if we can't use it to our advantage."

"Found..." Jason pointed to soaked and charred remains his room.

"You found it _here?"_ Jason nodded jerkily. Dick went silent as Bruce tied the bandage off.

"We've been compromised." Bruce realized grimly. "Dick, get Jason to the cave. I'm going to do a search. They might still be here."

Bruce rose to leave, but stopped when Jason reached out jerkily. Bruce paused, kneeling back down and taking the boy's hand in his. "S..sorry." Jason whispered, eyes. wide. "My... f-fault. My dad." His voice was weak, breathy.

"No. That pathetic excuse for a human being is _not_ your dad." Bruce growled, squeezing tightly. "I'm your father, and this is not your fault. So don't apologize." A relieved look washed across Jason's face, hand going limp in the old bat's grip. Bruce fondly brushed the bangs from Jason's eyes. "You're going to be okay. I'll be back. I promise."

Bruce rose up, smudging the blood off onto his jeans and striding off with all the grace of a non-lethal assassin. Dick watched him go before looking down at Jason. "I can't lift you." The boy pointed out. "So you're going to have to walk. We're going to go fast. It'll hurt, but once we get you to the cave, Leslie can stitch you up."

Jason grit his teeth, nodding.

* * *

"We did a sweep of the cave. Now that you're down here, we can lock down the elevator access to the manor."

Bruce nodded at Tim. "Do it."

Damian was kneeling next to Alfred, who had his back to the giant penny. He was winding a bandage around the butler's bare foot, doing it with practiced ease.

"What happened?"

"I was startled and... tripped." Alfred admitted sheepishly. "I told young master Damian that I could do it, but he'd hear nothing of it."

"You have tended to our wounds many times, Pennyworth." The boy huffed. "It was the least I can do for your service to my father."

"Damian's right, Alfred. Take it easy. Where's Dick and Jason?"

"Young master, Jason is being tended to in the medical area."

Bruce nodded. He found Jason sprawled out flat on the smooth cold metal medical bed, looking pale and tired. A fresh bandage was wound around his legs, starch white, and unmarred by blood. Now the Doctor was feeling his head. He actually let out a whimper when her fingers touched his ribs. The bandage was gone, and Bruce got a good look at the mottled bruises twisting across his son's sides.

"I know, Honey." Leslie soothed. "I'm almost done." Jason closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together and shuddering. "And done. No breaks, though a few new cracks." Jason relaxed, going boneless against the table.

"Jason." Bruce crossed the threshold of the medical floor, sliding past Leslie and putting a hand on Jason's shoulder. "How you feeling, kiddo?"

The boy shivered, shaking his head weakly. "Meds..." He breathed. Bruce nodded. He returned moments later with a bag of painkillers.

"This is a painkiller that works on him. You didn't try and give him anything did you?"

"No. I know not much works." Leslie watched as Bruce hooked Jason up, the painlines fading from the young man's face a mere thirty seconds later. "What happened, Bruce?"

"I-" Bruce paused, looking down at Jason. "Was it Willis, Jaybird?"

Jason nodded. "He called." The boy whispered. "Wanted me to..." He cleared his throat. "Join him. Said... I was a charity case... That you... you didn't want me... couldn't trust me." Jason stared blankly at the roof, face impassive in a way that Bruce knew all too well. Jason was trying to shut down, ignore the pain. Because Bruce knew that Jason was struggling not to believe it. "That I was... his."

Leslie had frozen, eyes wide as she saw unbridled anger lurking in Bruce's eyes. Willis was dead, had died in prison... hadn't he?

"But I thought-"

"So did we." Dick replied tersely, carding his fingers through Jason's hair with a tenderness that Leslie hadn't seen Jason accept before. "But somehow, I'm not surprised. He hired mercs to knock Jason out a day ago. Now we know they managed to get on the grounds too."

Bruce hummed. "Leslie, I'd like you to go home now. Red Robin and Robin will accompany you."

"No." Leslie replied. "My clinic's still under renovations. I've been taking shifts at the hospital. If you're going up against assassins which managed to this to _Jason_ of all people, then I'm sticking around."

Bruce pressed his lips together.

"Fine."

A wary silence filled the room as Bruce went over everything in his mind. Willis had gotten dangerous from his days serving under Two-Face. If Bruce had to guess, he was either in charge of his own gang, or in a place of high importance. He wouldn't have the funds to pull this off otherwise.

"Dick. Go update Tim and Damian... I need to talk to Jason."

Hesitating, Dick ran the back of his finger down Jason's cheek before stepping away. "Alright.... uh, Leslie?"

"Hn... I shouldn't be worried, should I?" Her gaze narrowed at Bruce, who sunk back. Since when had Leslie been told?

"No." Dick assured.

"No offense, Dick; but-"

"It's fine, Doc." Jason breathed out, lightly grabbing Leslie's wrist. "Bruce an' I came to n understandin'." The doctor pressed her lips together, taking Jason's hand in her own. "An Dick's got my back." Jason added. "Yelled at 'im for me."

"You know?" Dick asked quickly, looking startled as he pressed both fists against the table and leaned forward. 

"Who do you think pulled that wretched piece of metal out of his neck?" Leslie demanded flatly, crossing her arms. She'd been mortified, keeping silent only at Jason's request. Sometimes she wasn't sure _What_ she saw in Bruce. Why she kept giving him chances. Then others, she knew she'd made the right choice. Her cold statement left a silence that stretched on way too long. Leslie debated flat out refusing, sticking her foot down and remaining glued to Todd's side. But she saw the look in Bruce's eyes, the faraway heartbroken look of a father who'd hurt his son. Jason's assurance, topped by Dick's pushed her to nod.

"Alright, Dick. Let's go check on the troops. Heaven knows someone else needs my needle."

* * *

Bruce watched them go, finally turning to Jason as soon as they were gone. He sank into the metal stool and took Jason's hand in his. "I'm sorry this happened, Jay. I should have been more observant."

"S'okay." Jason replied, letting his slide shut. "-ey Bruce?"

"Hmm?"

"M'I charity case?"

Bruce's chest tightened in heartbreak, hand squeezing his son's a little more tightly. "Absolutely not. You're my son."

"Ya.. want me?"

"Always."

"Do you..." Jason swallowed, as if he already knew the answer. "Trust me?"

"With my life and my family." Bruce replied, vehemently. "Jason, Willis is wrong about you." Bruce whispered. "You are not _his._ The only thing you share with him is genetics and a last name. You're _mine."_ Jason closed his eyes letting out a shaking breath. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't. "You're _my_ son; and Willis Todd will pay for what he did to you. I promise." Bruce lowered his voice. "Get some sleep, Jay. You need to rest, heal. We've got your back."

He watched his son relax against the table, hand going limp in his. Bruce still held on, vowing to make that son of a... rat... pay for what he'd done to Bruce's... yes _Bruce's_ son.

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

"So what do we do?" Tim asked, letting his legs dangle from the end of the medical bed where Jason was reclining. He'd refused to be left out of this conversation, not if his biological father was involved. So they'd all crowded tightly together in the little medical bay. Tension was rising with every passing second as the gut churning realization set in.

They were over the barrel.

"Well, our investigation turned up nothing." Dick remarked, stating a well known and little loved fact. "They're constantly a step ahead-"

"Which makes no sense." Jason interjected. "My dad was a lowlife, a thug like the ones we take down nearly every night. He wasn't a mastermind, or a tactician. He was a drunk who took orders from Two-Face and beat his family."

Dick's hand came to rest on Jason's shoulder, eyes darkening icily. Dick was often perceived as the happy go lucky type, with a warm smile and a friendly demeanor. Those who truly knew him, knew that Dick had a temper icier than a glacier. His wrath was just as terrifying as the bat's, and being on his bad side was a very... _very_ bad place to be.

The first boy wonder's icy blue gaze sent shivers down Jason's spine.

"Clearly things have changed since Penguin ordered that hit on him." Leslie huffed. She remembered Willis. She'd been the one to treat Jason and his mother after the beatings, some of which had drawn blood. After the first time or two, Jason stopped coming by after every beating, only appearing when his mother needed help. She always noticed a few bottles of pills missing after his visits, knowing that they got sold for a meager amount of money.

She could have called the police. But she didn't. Jason was already in rough territory; struggling to scrape by. A bottle of pills wasn't worth sending that boy to jail, where she knew he'd become even worse, be inducted into the gangs. She saw light in him. And now she saw that light culminated into a young -admittedly broken- young man who'd done more good for the alley than even the Batman.

Jason was looking at her, brow pinched in confusion. "I thought Two-face ordered it." The doctor shrugged. Info was unreliable, especially in the alley. She'd just been told Willis was dead, at the penguin's order. Maybe it was the bird man, maybe it was the two faced. She didn't know, didn't care. She had more important things to be concerned about.

A beat.

"Doesn't matter." Jason acquiesced. "It doesn't answer the most pressing question. What do we do? We have no leads, and they've shown that they're willing to invade our home. We could keep looking, but something tells me that the assassins are _done_ playing games. They've attacked our home turf, just to prove that they can. On top of that, Willis knows our identities. He plays dirty, always has, always will."

"We're over a barrel." Tim grumpily summed, up folding his arms over his chest and glaring at the floor.

"More or less." Bruce replied, running a hand through his black hair.

A merry little jingle filled the packed medical bay. Tim pulled out his phone, Damian and Dick following suit. "Not me."

"Nope."

"Uhuh."

"It's not mine."

Tim looked up, eyes narrowed. "Okay, so who's is it?"

Jason reached over to Dick's pocket, deft fingers well acquainted with pick pocketing pulling the burner phone free. Dick shot him a look, but the cold gaze had melted just enough for a hint of fondness to make itself known.

The device's hard exterior was cracked, probably from where it had been trapped in his coat pocket between him and the wall. Otherwise, the tough little flip phone was undamaged. He flipped the top open, spotting the blinking little envelope symbol that signified the presence of a text. His thumb hovered over the directional arrows on the touch pad, but warm breath on the back of his neck made him freeze.

He was now seriously aware of the wall of bodies at his back, everyone shifting to get a look at the text from Willis. Jason glared over his shoulder. "Do you _mind?_ "

The wall backed up a good foot. Jason opened the message. It was a picture accompanied with a message. A man and woman, clearly roughed up and beaten sat slumped in metal chairs, hands tied behind their backs. Bags were yanked down over their heads. Under the picture were three words, three words which made Jason's heart sink with fear.

**Come alone, Jason.**

His hand shook. Harsh stinging tore into his back. He twitched as he saw his father swinging his belt, the buckle at the end of the swing leaving welts and bruises every time it landed. He twitched, realizing the pain was all in his mind. The phone was gone, Bruce now in his vision, hand on the side of his face, murmuring his name.

The second boy wonder clenched his fists, closing his eyes and lowering his head.

"Leslie." He whispered. "I need you to patch me up enough to walk."

"No." She whispered, voice wavering in restrained horror. "I refuse. I know what the man did to you. You can't-"

When Jason looked at her, his eyes were a toxic green, all the blue washed away by anger that welled from the darkest parts of his soul. Leslie and Bruce both stepped back, startled.

"I _can_ and I _will_." Jason growled. "Willis has stepped into _my_ territory. And if he thinks he can get away with hurting my people, then I'm _some_ _lousy_ protector."

Bruce felt torn. _A good soldier._ Jason was being just that, soldiering on, despite the pain and fear. He was being just as Bruce had trained him to be. The bat in him was screaming to find some way to make this work... Well not screaming, but rather glaring and demanding a compromise. But Bruce hadn't been the bat in weeks. He'd worked hard to re-awaken the father in him, the man who loved his children without question.

His hands pressed against Jason's chest, forcing him back down. "No." He said. Jason stared at him wildly, shock making the green visibly recede. Blue slowly started to appear, bleeding into the toxicity, fear, panic, and turmoil replacing the burning fury. "No." He repeated quietly. "I'm not letting you do it."

"But Bruce-"

"No."

"We have to give him something." Jason replied harshly. "He's gonna kill those people." He added with whisper and panic in his voice.

"Bruce, Jason is right." Dick interjected, gaze heavily troubled, guilty almost. But he had a plan, one that result in minimal pain for Jason if he could help it, an old parlor trick. "If Willis doesn't get what he wants, those civilians are dead and the rest of us are screwed."

The glare Bruce speared Dick with was withering, but the first robin stood firm. Tim was staring at Dick, feeling a mix of betrayal and shock. After all that talk about defending Jason, Dick was willing to toss his to the wolves? To his father? Just to save his own hide.

Damian's gaze had turned murderous. Leslie had a hand over her mouth; and Oracle, silent up until this point, looked away. None of them were expecting it. But there it was, the cold and bitter truth.

Dick was looking out for his own hide in an impossible situation. He'd known Dick would do it. His other family was more important. Yes, Jason had every intention of turning himself over to Willis, but to hear that Dick was fighting Bruce on it, sent a dagger of... something through his heart. Jason was expendable. But then again, most soldiers were. He was just the _most_ expendable of them all.

* * *

Jason staggered down the street, arms wrapped around his waist. He felt naked without his guns, only carrying a few concealed daggers that Damian had helped him hide. He was aware of eight rifles aimed at him from the nooks and crannies of the rooftops.

His foot snagged on a rock. He tripped, landing on hands and knees and biting back a cry. Slowly, he ignored the pain and rose back up. Dick had texted Jason's surrender, demanding a location. With a heavy heart, Jason acknowledged that this was the end. The bats were going to start taking down the assassins, but Jason knew they'd never make it before Willis got to business.

Disobedience came at a price, and even if Jason could barter for his life, he was in for one heckuva a beating. He twitched as memories bubbled to the surface, the alley vanishing every other couple of steps, replaced by the dingy apartment he'd lived much of his early life in. He could feel every strike, smell the alcohol wafting off Willis's torn and tattered clothing.

Ironically, he was heading to a bar, one Willis used to frequent, one the man now owned. Some things about his father, hadn't changed. The dingy bar was a hole in the wall, the only access being a metal door that no one would look twice at. Only the invited knew of its presence, and they kept their lips shut about it. Rapping on the door, Jason forced his shoulders straight, ignore the throb in his ribs, acting like it didn't hurt.

He was wearing black spandex and his usual brown jacket, a domino mask obscured his eyes. _"Who's_ _there?_ " Came a growl from the otherside of the metal.

"The bird that flew the coup." Jason ground out, inserting every ounce of anger into those six words. There was a huff, a click, and the door pulled open. Jason figured the guy on the other side hadn't seen the sunlight in a while. He was pale, long stringy black hair pulled into a pony tail, ripe with odor, and severly obese. Jason wrinkled his nose and shuffled by. There was a staircase leading into the lounge of a bar.

Jason made it to the bottom, if not a few shades too pale. The place was nice, gentle classical music floating through the air. It looked like a the bar of a five star Italian restaurant, with fancy tables and a well stocked bar with wine. In fact, the patrons were dressed in tuxes, unlike the man upstairs looking like they'd taken decent care of themselves. It was well lit, giving Jason a clear view of the guns each and every person in the room happened to be packing.

" _Jason_!"

The boy's blood ran cold, eyes narrowing hatefully at the black haired man standing next to a door on the other side of the room. He walked over, dressed in a tux, short ebony hair slicked back, a charming white toothed smile on his face.

"Welcome to my bar, The Silver Dagger... I know; _I know_ not original, but hardly the point. Do you want a drink?" There was a murderous look in Willis's eyes that left Jason uneasy. _Not a question._

"No thanks." He said regardless. "I don't drink."

"Well then, straight to business." Willis folded his hands behind his back. "Let's go, shall we?" He nodded towards the door, which led deeper into the bar. Jason looked sick to his stomach, but didn't fight when the man's hand came to rest on the small of his back. He leaned in close, a sharp click and cold metal ensuring Jason's compliance. Since when had Willis grabbed a gun?

"I don't have much a choice... do I?"

"You should know, this would have been much easier if you'd accepted my proposal _earlier."_ Willis breathed, voice cold. "I don't appreciate _disobedience._ "

'I've noticed." Jason replied dryly, shifting as the metal barrel pressed harder into his side, right up against a crack in his kevlar. The door was opened as soon as Willis got close, by one of the assassins that had pinned Jason down earlier, the one who'd dislocated his shoulder.

He was silently marched down the hallway, the woman following up the rear. There were plenty of metal doors in the hallway, but Willis chose one a good fifty feet in. The merc opened the door, and Jason was shoved inside. He hit the wall, stumbling over a chair and hitting the ground. Willis followed him in, gun still trained on Jason. He righted the chair, watching his son curl in on his ribs, eyes wide in shock.

"Sit down, Jason."

With a groan, the boy picked himself up, plopping heavily in the chair and holding both hands up pointedly. "So what, you gonna shoot me? Last I checked, you _needed_ me."

Willis shrugged. "No one said I needed you _now._ See, the thing you failed to realize is, that I have all the time in the world. My employees are outside, dealing with your friends. And soon, they'll be dead. They say that you can brainwash a prisoner, given enough time. You feed them just enough bread and water to survive, and then... after a while, they're reduced to primal instincts. That's when you come in, treat 'em nice, and they'll do whatever you want. I gave you a chance to join me willingly... but now I know where your loyalties really lie."

Jason watched him warily, hope slowly dwindling in his chest.

"I'll never fall that far." Jason whispered, eyes dark and angry. "My family will come, and they'll make you wish you'd-"

The third and fourth knuckles of Willis' fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head to the side. Before he could sufficiently pick his head up, a fist slammed into his gut. Jason gagged. "Tie him up."

The merc, Jason was calling this one Suzie, obeyed. There was the snapping click as a pair of cuffs were opened up. His arms were tugged behind the chair, one hand being cuffed to the matching leg of the chair. Another pair of cuffs used on the other arm and chair leg. Willis put the gun back in its holster, before kicking Jason, hard.

The chair capsized, Jason's head smacking the floor, rib cracking under the steel toed boot. Jason cried out, his hands and elbows pinned between him and the floor. He saw red for a minute, then stars. Willis was leaning over him. Jason coughed, pain pinching in his side at the motion. "That can't be too comfortable. Maybe you should have accepted my offer. This all could have been avoided. Willis' boot pressed against Jason's throat, earning a strangled gasp. "You must have so many questions. It's not every day your dad comes back from the dead, right? Well, I'll answer the question you can't ask me right now. Jason coughed and gagged, convulsing under Willis' steal toed combat boots. "I was experimented on, long story short. Not dead. You can thank good old penguin for that. I got out, and started my own little empire. When you eventually are... convinced... to join me, you'll be my right hand man... And together, we'll rule this city."

He waited until Jason was on the verge of passing out before pulling his foot away. "Sit him up." Willis ordered coldly, his employee obeying.

Jason's chin rested against his chest, blood dribbling down from where he'd bitten the inside of his cheek. Willis' hand gripped the side of Jason's neck, a familial gesture. It made the boy shudder as he inhaled raspy gasps.

"It's good to have you back, Jason." Willis stated, stepping back. "Or at least it _will_ be."

* * *

_"How much is he paying you?"_

Swift jolted, as did his other comrades in arms. His fingers flew to his ear piece.

"How did you get this line? Come out!"

 _"I don't think so. Your communications are jammed, and I have eyes on all of you. You can't relay your execution orders-_ " Red Robin was well aware that assuming such things was a risk. But he had more important things to worry about. _"So listen up. I'm willing to triple whatever Todd is paying you."_

"You honestly think we're _that_ flimsy?" Swift asked dryly, scanning the area for the Red Robin.

 _"Listen, you idiot._ _I haven't had enough coffee to deal with your level of stupidity, so try to grow a brain and comprehend the words coming out of my mouth. I am offering triple what Willis Todd is. And all I'm asking you to do, is get on a bus and get out of town. So much easier than trying to off the entire family... right? Triple. Take it or leave it."_

"Forget it." Swift replied tersely. "Now face us, or risk your-"

Swift vanished as a blue and red blur slammed into him, and Red Robin hadn't at all forgotten that he was on the merc's line. _"Thanks Superman."_

* * *

Willis had gotten in a thorough beating, leaving Jason bruised and limp against his handcuffs, blood coating his chin from biting his tongue, and the two broken teeth. Willis was turning to leave when 'Suzie' went still, eyes widening.

"Sammy?" Willis asked, raising an eyebrow. In the quiet room, where only Jason's ragged punctuated the silence, screams from the other end barely escaping the confines of her ear and communicator.

Jason started laughing, gasping out a horrible croaking laugh. "Your greatest flaw." He choked out, smiling deviously. "Was assuming two things. One..." He coughed, recovering and looking Willis in the eye. "I _do_ actually have friends." 

The door slammed open, almost off its hinges. The senior Todd whirled around spotting a towering mass of invulnerable muscle, a tell-tale **S** on his chest. And he looked _ticked._

Superman's meaty hand gripped Willis' wrist, laser vision shooting the rifle Sammy was groping for. The barrel melted in her grip, and without further prompting, she dropped it, young green eyes widening as she quickly put both hands in the air.

"H-hey now." Willis stuttered, trying to pull away. Superman grabbed his other hand, holding them apart and glaring wordlessly at the man. "I'm sure we can c-come to some sort of understanding."

"I don't compromise with criminals... much less the man who beat two of my nephews."

" _Two_?"

"That was your second assumption." Jason said, rising to his feet, now free of his cuffs and rubbing his wrists. "You're insane if you thought I'd let Jason _anywhere_ near _you_." The holographic illusion pulled away, revealing one bruised but ticked off _Nightwing_

* * *

" _Bruce, the_ Mission is a success. _I repeat, the mission is a success. Superman has Nightwing and Willis."_ Jason sagged in his chair, looking pale.

"I told him this was a terrible idea."

Bruce's hand gently came to rest on his son's shoulder. "It was." The old bat admitted. "But... I'll take it. You wouldn't have survived-"

"But what if it had failed!" Jason snapped pointedly. "What if Superman hadn't been quick enough!? What if- Ow." He moaned, collapsing forward and gripping his ribs. Bruce's hands pushed him back.

"I hated this as much as you." Bruce murmured, lowly. "You're forgetting that _I_ told him no too."

And Bruce had. There'd been a full blown argument when Dick revealed his plan to use Jason's holographic emitter and call superman for back up. But in the end, the boneheaded blue clad moron had won out. He'd promised that things would work out; and if they didn't, then at least Jason would be safe. A gust of wind chilled the cave, and Jason swiveled the chair.

Superman was holding Dick up with an arm around his waist, the other arm holding Willis.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Jason hissed.

"Clark owed me a favor." Bruce replied, patting Jason's knee and rising to his feet.

"I'm fin- agh." Dick collapsed against Clark as the man of steel half dragged-half carried the wounded bird to the medical bay.

"Easy, Dick." Clark scolded, pulling Dick's arm over his shoulder a little more securely and hauling him closer.

Leslie sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and approaching the cave's medical section.

Willis was blindfolded, hands cuffed. Bruce knew Clark was listening; but the father was getting piece of Willis. Since Bruce was still forbidden from touching the cowl, this was the next best thing. Hands curled into Willis' shirt, yanking him to his feet. The blind fold was yanked off so the child beating scoundrel could look Bruce in the eye, or perhaps vice versa.

Willis shot a crap-eating smile at Bruce. "Ah, Jason's gracious benefactor."

"Oh I'm much... _much_ more than that." Bruce growled, fingers curling into his shirt. "I'm his _father._ Sure I'm not the best father; but I'm a whole lot better than you'll ever be. And I love him."

"You think I _don't?"_ Willis scoffed.

"I think you love what he can _do."_ Bruce growled.

Willis took a look around the cave, spotting the case they happened to be a mere ten feet from. "And you _don't?_ My associate _said_ that case was down here. I wasn't sure I believed it."

Bruce's blood ran ice cold. One of the mercs had been in his _cave?_ He was glad the martian was willing to erase their memories, to preserve the safety of Gotham's vigilantes. Soon Willis would be joining them, but first-

Bruce slammed his fist into Willis' jaw, twisting his weight and throwing the sorry excuse for a man into the case holding Jason's robin suit. That was no weak glass, but with all the fury of an angry father to drive it, the plexiglass shattered, the suit and mannequin tipping and landing under him. Willis groaned, head falling back as glass jammed into his back.

"Two illusions have been shattered tonight..." Bruce growled. "You are _not_ his father. and he is _not_ my soldier. Superman? You can't take him away."

Jason stood, eyes wide. _Not a soldier... no finally, a son._

* * *

"Leslie says she wants you both to stay at the manor."

Jason groaned, letting his head fall back on the pillow of his king sized bed. Bruce was standing at the end of the bed, staring down his two injured sons.

"Oh come 'n, Jay." Dick huffed, his voice muffled. The dentist had been working on his mouth to fix the two shattered teeth. "Won be tha' bad."

"Shut up. You sound like a Walrus."

Dick spluttered and burst into laughter, hands flying to his chest. "Nnnn. ow. Don' make me laff. How do ya know wha a Walrus souns like anyway?"

"I only have you for reference. You look like one too."

Jason could see the corner of Bruce's mouth twitching. Dick had demanded that Jason let him hang out on his bed. It was big enough to accommodate them both, and Jason had a Television.

"Bruse, can'd see. My favorid pard is on."

The bat rolled his eyes, stepping aside so Dick could watch Olaf singing 'Summer' and Jason could groan. "I hate this movie. Bruce, he's made me watch it four times today. Please... _please_ get me an action movie!"

"Wha's wrong wid frosen?"

"It's lame, depressing, and the songs are annoying." Jason listed off, holding his fingers up. Bruce rounded the bed, pulling a blanket up to Jason's waist and ruffling his hair.

"I'll see what I can do. I trust that means you'll stay until Leslie gives you a clean bill of health?"

Jason sighed, glancing at Dick. The older brother was watching him carefully; but Jason knew the man would support whatever decision the second robin chose. "Well, as long as Dick stays too. I need _someone_ to be my escape artist in arms."

Dick beamed, and Bruce sighed, putting a hand on his face. "I need to give Alfred a raise. Just wait until you won't pop a stitch. Okay, Jay?"

"Sure sure. Movies?"

"I'm going; I'm going."

As soon as Bruce had shuffled from the room, Jason sobered. "You okay, Dick?"

"You've asced me thad like fify dimes already." Dick pointed out, a bruised and shuddering arm reaching out to rest on Jason's wrist. "M'fine."

"I know it's just... You shouldn't have taken a patented Willis Todd beating for me."

"I wasn gonna send you dere. You're my brother... Jusd like you dook a beading for your mom, I dook one for you. I'll do it again doo." He squeezed Jason's leg pointedly. "I love you liddle brother."

Jason smiled, wrapping an aching arm over Dick's shoulder. "I love you too, Dick. Now seriously, shut up. You shouldn't be talking with your mouth numb. You sound stupid."

"Aww. alway knew you cared."

Jason snorted.

* * *

**End.**

* * *

**Bonus scene:**

Willis had gotten in a thorough beating, leaving Jason bruised and limp against his handcuffs, blood coating his chin from biting his tongue, and the two broken teeth. Willis was turning to leave when 'Suzie' went still, eyes widening.

"Sammy?" Willis asked, raising an eyebrow. In the quiet room, where only Jason's ragged punctuated the silence, screams from the other end barely escaping the confines of her ear and communicator.

Jason started laughing, gasping out a horrible croaking laugh. "Your greatest flaw." He choked out, smiling deviously. "Was assuming two things. One..." He coughed, recovering and looking Willis in the eye. "I have friends." 

The door slammed open, almost off its hinges. The senior Todd whirled around spotting something that made him choke in surprise. Two people stood there, a woman with black hair and matching black eyes, a Raven on her shoulder... and a tiny floating girl with brown hair and green headphones.

Raphale: "Oh oh! Can I kill him now? I swear I'll make it painful!"

Me: "Sure."

Willis: "What the-"

Raphale: "AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

* * *

There Raphale. I hope you read this chapter because THAT was JUST for you. Hope it got you smiling at least just a little. You killed him. The body was never found. Have fun with that. 

That being said. This story has reached its conclusion. Thank you to all those who have been leaving regular comments. I really appreciate the feedback, and if any of you want your own bonus scenes in following stories... I might be able to make it happen. Probably. 

Special shout out too:

** ~Raphale **

** ~Igodownwithmyshipz **

** ~Illuvien **

** ~ArtemisMay **

** ~Trotamundos **

** ~Reggie2Hood **

** ~JaneoDoe **

** ~Gab2789 **

** ~T.J **

** For their numerous comments on my story. I hope to see you all in the next installment of the series. Until then... I'm gonna go act like a Raven for a while, maybe pay Poe's grave a visit or something **

** -Bl00dR4v3n out **


End file.
